kassandra
small then, and smaller
my desire's to stay alive
K
assandra fixed the man in a cold, silver stare, her eyelids dropping to a half-open position in a pointed, tired glare. “No?” She asked, false positivity woven into her words like silverite thread, a spider’s nest of strained grace. “Then, perhaps, you should find a better hobby than accosting strangers in the night.” She took a step forward and Oculos mirrored her, a vibration running down the length of his body, barely visible but tactile against Kassandra’s side. She let her weight sway gently into him, loose, now, requesting he relax and let the issue drop; she was far too exhausted for such nonsense and she wouldn’t have him getting injured for the stupidity of another. Once the poor beggar had mumbled their thanks and hightailed it, Kassandra made a point of swinging her wide rear around and boxing out the vocal aggressor. She made a physical barrier between him and her new acquaintance, Luvena, blocking totally their view of each other with her expansive navy form. She affixed a worn smile on her features. Oculos ducked beneath her and sat down by her left side, haunch tucked beneath him, ears lifted, listening, but relaxed.
When Luvena offered to pay, Kas laughed. “Nonsense. You owe me nothing. There is no fee for being decent.” She noted the venom in Luvena’s tone as she expressed her contempt for the aggressor’s behavior. “Yes, well, some people are going to be assholes, and we do what we can about that. I’m no fighter either, to be honest, so if it had come to blows, I daresay it would have gone poorly on all accounts.” She’d never been in a physical altercation in her life. “My larger concern, however, is that we have a cause for begging in the Court. That, to me, is the reprehensible crime. I’ve a good mind to petition Ira and set him to fixing this nonsense.” The ferocity in her words came unbidden and surprised her; she had no relationship with Ira, not a one, and barely knew the new Sovereign besides at face value; surely, she had no right to march into his presence and demand rectification of the apparent state of poverty.
She stifled a yawn. “But that should probably wait until I’m less exhausted and more apt to bite my tongue.” Her next smile was genuine.
