witty repertoire

[Elijah Winters]

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shoot gurl why you gotta be offline when I have plots to discuss

Oh, she turned and he hated the way her eyes looked. Even from the distance she was much too sharp, much too much like a cat or a hunting bird. Her tone was equally as piercing and his ears fanned back against his head. There was no desire in him to go downstairs. The last time he had his foot had been eaten by the dirt and it had been scary. Nervously, he perched atop the steps with baby-blue eyes wide and staring down at his spitfire sister.

He did not speak, but shook his head aggressively. The smiling bandana around his neck contrasted against the blank expression on his dark face, for he rarely smiled around his sister.

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