"I told you that he doesn't understand," he says, tension rolling up in his throat. In the pitch blackness of the night, Aunamee allows his lips to slip into a snarl. "Do you listen to me, R?"
'Temper, temper,' his mother had told him when he was a child, her voice growing softer (weaker) as the years went on.
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"I told you that he doesn't understand," he says, tension rolling up in his throat. In the pitch blackness of the night, Aunamee allows his lips to slip into a snarl. "Do you listen to me, R?"
'Temper, temper,' his mother had told him when he was a child, her voice growing softer (weaker) as the years went on.
"Do you think I'm a liar?"