"Oh, no," she whirled on him. She was still walking, just backwards. "Don't ye start up wi' that crock o' scraps. Ye been dancin' a right fancy step since ye sat at me table, an' I'll not be havin' yer games, not after that." She pointed in the general direction of Scuttlebutt. Her voice had gone cold. "Ye want t'see me keelhauled? A'right, that's fair. But that ain't how ye see it done in this town, an' ye should be keen on that if ye've th'gall t'name me Dax. Y'lost yer chance t'play gadabout, an' yer a fool an' a dog twice over if ye think I'll roll over'n bare me throat t'the likes of ye."
For a moment, she dug her rear heel in and took a step forward in his direction, eyes hard as she stared up at him. As quickly, she spun and moved away from him, taking a right turn at the T-shaped intersection at the end of the side street.
For a moment, she dug her rear heel in and took a step forward in his direction, eyes hard as she stared up at him. As quickly, she spun and moved away from him, taking a right turn at the T-shaped intersection at the end of the side street.
