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Just a little scene that I always imagined happening between Margo and Ali, but I never found a proper place to put it in the story.
* * *
Margo sat on the bunk in her cell aboard the Foxen Navy destroyer, staring through the diamondoid cell wall at the conniving bitch who had helped put her in there.
“Come to gloat, Ali-Kat?” she demanded. She ignored the grumble in her stomach. Dinner wasn’t for another hour by the cell’s clock, but she was already hungry. Always hungry these days. The half a year she’d hid out in Greenholme’s wilderness, forced to share her food with the pathetic bunch of survivors from her crew that she’d painstakingly gathered together for the raid, had left her thinned out and starved.
( Just a bit, yes )
* * *
Margo sat on the bunk in her cell aboard the Foxen Navy destroyer, staring through the diamondoid cell wall at the conniving bitch who had helped put her in there.
“Come to gloat, Ali-Kat?” she demanded. She ignored the grumble in her stomach. Dinner wasn’t for another hour by the cell’s clock, but she was already hungry. Always hungry these days. The half a year she’d hid out in Greenholme’s wilderness, forced to share her food with the pathetic bunch of survivors from her crew that she’d painstakingly gathered together for the raid, had left her thinned out and starved.
( Just a bit, yes )
