"Why would I mumble anything? Are you stalking him for your pal or something?"
She whacked her knee and giggled. "Ha! Prowling. That's funny."
"You believe prowling is funny?"
"No, of course not. Simply the fact that you assume I'm doing it." She elbowed him.
Flinch snatched her elbow quickly than she could wink and his mood changed. His posture spruced up and his eyes dimmed. Abruptly, she didn't feel safe—at all.
He crouched toward her and clenched her gaze as he muttered.
"I suggest you flee, soon. There's nothing and no one in that house that concerns you."
"Okay," she retorted in a high vocalist that smashed.
Then she whirled rump and darted for the immediate tunnel.
After running two barriers, she hindered. Why should she be scared and abruptly flee? She had never been frightened into stranding a stake out when stalking a tale before. Hell, she was not scared of anyone or anything!
