Sloane had been minding her own God damn business as she walked through the desert. She didn’t ask for Sloane’s company and she certainly didn’t want it. This was a mare that had absolutely nothing in common with her, let alone a microorganism. She didn’t want to expect the effort in humoring her with better insults, she just wanted to be on her merry little way. And so, when Sabrina asked if she was a yearning because her sister had better comebacks, Sloane grumbled. "Look fucker, I’m being nice." This was Sloane being nice. Already irritated with the weather of the desert, it was quite funny that Sloane was being kind at all. Normally it would make her more bitchy, but Sloane wasn’t going to let the other win.
She began to step around the mare, unwilling to give her any more of her presence. But something stopped her. A grin pulled at the corner of her lips. "Speaking of your sister…find her yet?" Sloane remembered the temper tantrum. If she thought a childish comeback was juvenile, she needed to take a long damn look in the mirror because she was just as juvenile, if not more.
Perhaps, though, what irritated Sloane the most was that this mare seemed to think she knew something about Sloane. She knew jack diddily squat about her life. "You don’t even know the first thing about me." She might know her name, sure. But she didn’t know about her past, her family, what court she lived in, or her affinity for buying and selling secrets. This mare new shit and she was just trying to stir up trouble. Generally, Sloane was all about stirring the pot unnecessarily but today, she wanted to get out of this fucking desert and into something much more habitable.
Sloane continued forward, though, knowing that there really wasn’t anything that she could say that would get her to stick around. Her comments were not altogether unsurprising then, when she said she was probably dumb enough to die out here. "Not as dumb enough as you are for living here. I’ll be fine, but thanks for your concern." She knew Sabrina didn’t care a lick about her, but she laid the sarcasm on extra thick. "Good luck finding your fucking sister. She’s probably dead." Did Sloane care if her sister was dead? No. In fact, Sloane probably hoped that her sister was did. Then just maybe she could see the mare break down and sob. It would prove that she was weaker than a tadpole.
@Sabrina
