[He sure is frustrating, Dorothea! Thank you for noticing. And after flicking away yet another organ, let it be known that he considers not telling her a damn thing—but she did kill this rat in a mildly impressive manner, so.]
...A spur.
[A black iron spur, to be precise, but. As he picks it from the mess, looking at all of the blood on it (and feeling oddly bad about that for Reasons, do not @ him):]
I've probably encountered more of them than you have, but I trust you know what it is.
thread this in the game with me, please, i need them opening their own bbq business
...A spur.
[A black iron spur, to be precise, but. As he picks it from the mess, looking at all of the blood on it (and feeling oddly bad about that for Reasons, do not @ him):]
I've probably encountered more of them than you have, but I trust you know what it is.
[It's Petty O'Clock, baybee! Stomp on him.]