"Aww, Jager! Ain't nice t'talk 'bout a lady's hole when she ain't 'round t'hear it. Thought ye'd better manners'n that. Can't take ye anywhere nice, now can I?" The first die she blocked. The second, well, having one eye swollen shut really messed with her depth perception. It made her wince.
"Don't care where ye feck off to'r when -- but ye could at least get me somethin' t'eat. I'm ruttin' hungry, ye blaggart. Oh aye, booze is nice -- an' I see ye takin' it like a coldhearted wretch, I do -- but it ain't gonna fill a lass' stomach. No it ain't. So how 'bout ye run yerself down t' a stall like a good little house boy an' fetch me somethin', fancy?"
She was staring at him.
Her expression wasn't a particularly nice one.
"Don't care where ye feck off to'r when -- but ye could at least get me somethin' t'eat. I'm ruttin' hungry, ye blaggart. Oh aye, booze is nice -- an' I see ye takin' it like a coldhearted wretch, I do -- but it ain't gonna fill a lass' stomach. No it ain't. So how 'bout ye run yerself down t' a stall like a good little house boy an' fetch me somethin', fancy?"
She was staring at him.
Her expression wasn't a particularly nice one.
