Dagger's Scorn

As Ceridwen and the boy made their way through the crowded alleyways of the slum, Dagger appeared from behind one of the lean-tos. As he emerged, seemingly from no-where, Ceridwen jumped and whipped around to face him. Upon recognising her accomplice, she glared at him.

"How many times have I told you not to do that? You'll give me a heart attack one of these days you sneaking wretch!"

Dagger tried to look apologetic, but the smile tugging at his lips ruined any hope of pentinence. He turned his gaze to the boy next, looking him up and down with an unimpressed expression on his scarred face. He was even more pathetic looking than he'd first thorugh, a scrawny little slip of a boy who didn't look like he'd last a second in a fight. The boy looked up at him with a defiant expression on his face, glaring at him, trying to show he wasn't scared. Dagger snorted derisively, what made Ceridwen think he was anything special? He certainly wasn't convinced.

Rolling his eyes, the tall man fell into step at Ceridwen's right shoulder and hissed quietly in her ear:

"You really think he's it? Looks utterly useless to me, scarcely more than a child. Are you sure about this?"

Ceridwen shot him an icy glare: "If I want your opinion I'll ask for it. I know what I'm doing."

Dagger didn't bother replying, he just blew out between his teeth and carried on walking. He knew Ceridwen well enough not to bother trying to talk her round. She was far too stubborn when it came to these matters. And, if he was honest with himself, she was almost always right in situations like these.

But, when Dagger cast a look back at the boy, who was gawking at his surroundings like a startled rabbit, he still didn't believe it.

If Ceridwen was right about him, he'd eat his words.

The End

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