[The mist that clouds her eyes is as brief as breath itself, but he doesn't miss it. Richie's shoulders square, every sense on alert. He's frightened, not for himself but for what's happened to this poor girl.]
That's not right. [What does he do? He has nothing personal of hers. Not a trinket, nor any critical stories of her past. She was an alien who didn't know about cheese or the Rolling Stones. They may as well be strangers.
Richie's lips purse. He's the wrong guy for this job, not even strong enough to do a caveman knockout and drag back to the village. The right one would be someone from her home. And as far as that goes...
He clears his throat. He hasn't tried this one yet, pardon him. (But it's too good for a first try all the same, doesn't that seem strange?)]
You remember Keith right? He sounds just like this.
no subject
That's not right. [What does he do? He has nothing personal of hers. Not a trinket, nor any critical stories of her past. She was an alien who didn't know about cheese or the Rolling Stones. They may as well be strangers.
Richie's lips purse. He's the wrong guy for this job, not even strong enough to do a caveman knockout and drag back to the village. The right one would be someone from her home. And as far as that goes...
He clears his throat. He hasn't tried this one yet, pardon him. (But it's too good for a first try all the same, doesn't that seem strange?)]
You remember Keith right? He sounds just like this.