Broker's hub

Ah, shit. [He’s been lax on reforging his own armor after it was melted by dragonfire. He’s been able to rely on the boar up until now, but he’s not eager to see her reaction to him transforming into a ten foot tall werebeast.] 

I was being facetious.

You call it facetious, I call it patronising. And those two aren't mutually exclusive.

What a lifestyle. Ah, youth.

Knock it off. You talk as though I'm a child.

I’m afraid I’m going to worry, because I care. But I won’t speak of it any longer.

If it's any consolation, I'm perpetually in trouble. It's alright, I'm a thief.

No...? No, I'm not in trouble. [She reluctantly takes a seat, looking around.] I'ts just... well, how much can a thief and a data broker be troubleless, really? I don't want or need you to worry. I can take care of myself.

[It’s a genuine but fleeting smile, this time.] That’s true. Alright. I concede.

[She's ready to say "fine", her lips even pucker to form the F sound - but in the end, she cannot lie. On the other hand, she doesn't wish to sound like she wallows in self-pity.] Quite... shit. I've been shit, Sontaire.

I have no pity to spare. Not for those who are the harbingers of their own misery.

[She thinks about what he says. Perhaps, perhaps, he's right...? How difficult could It be to quickly apologise for her unintentional rudeness, invite him back, offer brandy, talk, like they used to. Have him explain, have her learn.