"Well, thank you for your barely veiled threats and obscure pseudo-prophecy," I remarked. "Please, feel free to keep them to yourself from now on. Oh,...and I hope the door hits you on the way out."He'd taken a few steps towards the door but, at my remarks, came striding back angrily. "You are a half-breed mongrel cur," he snarled, "good for nothing but use as a whore or the lowest slave. I will show you your place." He pulled his hand back and I called my dagger to my hand, adrenaline coursing. She was working on closet, which had contained their clothes. She would throw his clothes quickly down on the ground because she didn't want to feel that shirt she always stole from him and wore to work. She didn't want to smell that pair of pants that were torn and stained. The ones she kept on telling him to throw away, but he never did. Now here was her chance to finally get rid of them and she couldn't. She put them in the box of stuff she wasn't going to give away. Then, she heard. More

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