Eidinahtynwyn, called Oath Judge after her father, watched the little man before her with some care. She didn't like lalafell as a rule, felt that their natural stature made them more likely to try to prove something. Perpetual little man's syndrome, rolled up tight in a itty bitty package that held more power then it rightly should. It could be, had been, disaster.
She didn't like this one. He was likely young (or else old and definitely stupid), full of himself, and thinking he was some hot-shot tough shit.
Belligerent attitudes and rudeness had ceased to impress her under any circumstance when she'd passed into her third decade. Now, it was just another added layer of irritation and a waste of her time.
"Are you lookin' for employment with the Heavy Handers?"
She didn't think she wanted him, if he was. Last thing she needed was more runts who didn't understand their place.
She didn't like this one. He was likely young (or else old and definitely stupid), full of himself, and thinking he was some hot-shot tough shit.
Belligerent attitudes and rudeness had ceased to impress her under any circumstance when she'd passed into her third decade. Now, it was just another added layer of irritation and a waste of her time.
"Are you lookin' for employment with the Heavy Handers?"
She didn't think she wanted him, if he was. Last thing she needed was more runts who didn't understand their place.
