rubi inbox

[pharmacy]

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Quentin Smith, 23

letters ◇ thoughts ◇ dreams

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[pharmacy]

[ He's sitting with the explanation, wondering (as he often does) if that's something he could find any faith in. He'd like to ask more--but Khoriya lays an exceptionally engaging trap to distract him. ]

Man, we have talked about this fucking whelp bullshit.

[clawandfang]

Did you now? I must have put it out of my mind.

[ There's a clear sardonic tinge to the growled monotone - clearly, Khoriya doesn't give a shit, so 'whelp' it is. Satisfied that Quentin has been well distracted from the task of doing him any further favors, he'll withdraw. ]