Another Travelin' Song

She stands, wavering on suddenly unsteady legs.

Dammit, she can't lose the adrenaline now. Not yet.

Gritting her teeth, she takes a step forward, bending down to knock him in the head with the butt of her gun.

There.

That should keep him out while she gets Crabapple back.

And decides whether or not she's going to kill him.

She can feel her teeth itching to rip his throat out, drink down his blood, feel it end.

She also feels her stomach turn at the very thought.





Right.

Dry heaves later, horse now.