WHO'S THE KILLER IN THE CROWD?

He irritated her. Who the fuck was this guy to come and start assuming things about her? The woman?s posture stayed stiff and irate, her fiery gaze set upon him, questioning him, challenging him. She noted the absent flesh from his jaw, assuming that somebody must have already taught the prick quite a bit of a lesson. ?You don?t know me. Maybe I will,? she defied him. Perhaps she would, if given reason. The stranger before her was not a good enough reason to run off, and so she would stay, eyeing him down and standing powerfully. Virgil cared little for who he was; he was irritating her, and she wouldn?t let him get any sort of satisfaction from making her back down.

He stated that he didn?t want to scare her and she snorted. ?Then what the hell do you want?? she asked him, suspicious. He was fucking weird, and she wasn?t really sure if she was okay with that. Virgil had better things to do than to sit around and discuss her personality with a stranger, namely she needed to get her hind leg looked at and inspected. He asked about her name and she would sigh. It needed to be established in these lands, clearly. ?To be an Olympus is to be descended from the gods themselves,? she explained. ?You?ll learn our line soon enough,? it was a promise. We come, and we conquer.

I amuse you? She glared at him and shook her head. ?Glad I can be of use,? she snarked. ?Look, if you?re going to insist on harassing me, I guess the least I can do is ask where a healer might be,? she inquired gesturing to her injured leg. She was not so arrogant as to assume she could cure herself of infection; no, she needed somebody to help heal her wound.