Mar 30, 2015
the-fxlse-shepherd:
“You didn’t hold your end of the deal, pal.”
His stance is firm, arms crossed over his chest, an intimidating presence as a glare forms and darkens his eyes.
“I want what you owe me.”
“And what exactly do I owe ye, lad?”
Atlas’ voice is calm and low, steely eyes focused on that of the other man. He’s accustomed to unhappy business partners, but there has always been a sort of tact involved-- some social dance of words to weasel better favour out of him. This man was to the point-- stupid, perhaps, but Atlas held some respect for it.
“If I knew what ye was talkin’ about, I’d get me boys workin’ on it immediately.”
