Bris' aggitation grew along with the hybrid's. Every fiber of her being shook with the desire to rip the male off the horse and spring headlong into Inferni in search of her nemesis. It was the threat of the huge animal's hooves that kept the white woman where she stood. There was no way in hell that stallion's kick could not break whatever bones in her body it came into contact with. She kept the horse in the peripheral of her vision, watching for any sudden movement its rider decided to evoke in it.
The girl's stomach turned at the heavily accented insult the strange male threw at her. To a rational mind, he may have had a point. To Bris' mind, the only reason they were able to claim the lives of so many wolves was because they fought dirty. She was about to force out a retort when the Infernian kept on going. His words seemed forced as his speech continued, and there was a very distinctive stop in the middle of his final sentence. It was nearly enough to snap the girl out of her anger and pique her curiosity, but not quite.
"You worthless shit-eaters only get the upper hand because you fight dirty. You have no sense of right and wrong, no sense of honor at all. You're all just specks of shit that clutter the land and waste the air the rest of us breathe. You see? You're too stupid to even get out a sentence properly. You filthy hybrids are a disease, nothing more! GET OUT OF MY WAY!!" Regardless of how worthlessly she viewed the entirety of Inferni, she wanted no more blood on her hands than that of her sister's killer, and so she still held herself back from attacking him outright. That damned horse was still the one advantage the mangy hybrid had. Mismatched eyes kept calculating any way around the mounted guardsman. There had to be a way to get past.
Table by Marishka!
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