[She watches him coming over, arm propping itself up on the handle of her pitchfork as one foot crosses over the other. There was something about the look on his face that makes her purse her lips together. There's something warm that makes its way through her blood, a tingle in the pit of her stomach even with the acknowledgement of the harp in the back of her mind.]
Oh really?
[The smile makes her eyebrow raise, even as she feels a small nudge of irritation in the back of her mind with a particular string. Her lips quirk, lowering her arm from the handle and cocking her other hip as she tilts her head.]
no subject
Oh really?
[The smile makes her eyebrow raise, even as she feels a small nudge of irritation in the back of her mind with a particular string. Her lips quirk, lowering her arm from the handle and cocking her other hip as she tilts her head.]
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