[p] cold shot

She sniffed at Tony's words, and snuffed out the clove cigarette, driving the flaming end until the ground until the live embers that danced was smothered until a cold silence. "Hardly! I'm about as much as a grandma as you are--I'm too young for that sort of thing," she exclaimed softly, returning the smile with her own playful smirk. Being who she was, though, it wouldn't be too hard for her to fit the role of a maternal figure for the young pups, though the title grandmother was not flattering. Yet, it made her grin at the thought of some pup calling her "maw maw".

"Arms aren't fun sometimes, are they?" she agreed, remembering the recent time her arm had to be wrapped because of that damned cat. She was well off than Tony was, of course, but she could empathize to a degree. "Let it rest a bit, and it should be as good as new." She fell silent for a moment, and asked without much forethought, "What do you think of us, me and your dad?" It was better to be direct than to beat around the bush, in her opinion, and to openly discuss something that she found awkward was her remedy to cure it. That, and she was truly curious of the one of the more tempermental Knight's thoughts.


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