It was all she could do. He spoke, he was heated, and finally she got what she was looking for. Temper, a rise, and she laughs. She laughs loud, hard and then finishes with a snarling sound ripping out of her throat.

“You can’t protect yourself from hatred, you dolt. You’ll get what you get and so far, you’ve not shown very nice colours. A lot of grey. What a sad little man you are, if you can dish it out but can’t take it,” she says as she creeps towards him. Gone was the laughter.

Gone was her amusement.

And then, he gave her what she wanted. And she smirked.

“Oh, I’ll go, but I’m going to run. I’m going to talk to others here. Men who force women into anything, especially forcing them against their will, don’t deserve anything nice. You aren’t special, Bay Boy, like any man who’d do anything like you isn’t,” she snaps at him.

And Leyra darts forward so she is up alongside him.

“If I hear anything of you making life harder for that poor woman again, I promise you, I’ll make sure you regret it,” she says with a grin.

Then with sarcastic laughter and a burning, maddening desire to run, Leyra was gone up the shoreline, burning off the energy.