Splinters flew from the staff as it struck the wall, finely peppering her clothing, sticking in her hair. Blinking, she reached up to comb a fleck of wood from her hair, squinting at it and then the remains of her trusty stick on the ground. She could make it "home" without it, but still she felt a degree of mourning for the thing which had literally carried her through her first uneasy steps out of the collective bosom of Caido's finest nurses. She had grown rather attached to it.
A pity.
Shrugging blithely at the beute's announcement the witch shrugged, pushing past him, her shoulders square and posture entirely unbent by his outburst while inside her heart hammered, blood rushing in her ears. She could scarcely hear herself think through the roar like black rapids. She ached for security and reassurance, but most importantly, she seethed with contempt for the the violent bruiser and his remarkable lack of tact.
A pity.
Shrugging blithely at the beute's announcement the witch shrugged, pushing past him, her shoulders square and posture entirely unbent by his outburst while inside her heart hammered, blood rushing in her ears. She could scarcely hear herself think through the roar like black rapids. She ached for security and reassurance, but most importantly, she seethed with contempt for the the violent bruiser and his remarkable lack of tact.
