[basic facts perceived as threats is not anything new, nor is being mocked for stating them. she's come to expect this behavior from her dear Hunt. it's that damned stare she can never get used to, like they're boring holes directly through blythe's pupils like hollow-point bullets and taking the most precise, deliberate aim possible at Her—at She, who does not bother with the chemical flood at the thought. She, who allows her vessel to know that fear.]
Yes, very well. [she slowly releases her grip and glances away as though her movements are just as patient, as though she isn't a pretender to the throne that the Hunt looms atop.] Choose one of Ours, then. An eye for an eye. [she pauses, but finds it hard to meet their stare again. her fingers press against her leg to still its tiny bounces.] Unless you'd rather not deal with blind prey.
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Yes, very well. [she slowly releases her grip and glances away as though her movements are just as patient, as though she isn't a pretender to the throne that the Hunt looms atop.] Choose one of Ours, then. An eye for an eye. [she pauses, but finds it hard to meet their stare again. her fingers press against her leg to still its tiny bounces.] Unless you'd rather not deal with blind prey.