Now shut your dirty mouth

Lebraid did not appreciate the incessant miscellany of encounters, be it a profitable one or not. Some supplied intel, knowledge, or perhaps an excuse to let loose; the blustery heller that slumbered within dared to uprise, sombrely staring at the sheen gold and off-white canine. “Redwater,” Gritty, bedraggled vocals iterated the singular idiom, now knowing the name of this sterile, sculpted landscape, “Perhaps, but it isn’t the most favourable one.” Tintless nebulas danced with a fervid frost, crown low and ears taut -- jacket jostled to assume predomination, moonless skin quivered -- were they here for simplicities? She did not trust strangers, and that was ostensibly profiled. Truthfully, the graveyard brandished no taste for gabfests; there’s no telling what she might do, forbearance already worn thin from the heat.

Action. | “Speech.” | Skill.
“Wrong me once, I’ll kill you twice.”