Harrumphing at Cagan’s back, Effie stalked closer to him still, her hair skittering across the bare flesh of her back and stroking her nerves. She was about to say more when a familiar woman appeared, one that she had a conversation with last night. The details were blurry, but Effie remembered her wanting a place to stay or of something of that sort. 

Hissing at being dismissed so easily, Effie pressed, “I have to be stuck with this [i]lot[/i] for a whole [i]day[/i]?”

As if to emphasize her point, there was a small tiff behind her when two bumbling fools clashed into each other and their voices easily slithered into her ear like a disgusting worm. Without turning around, Effie drew her sword and slammed the butt of her weapon against the helmet of one of the morons and her heel into the stomach of another. She moved closer to the supposed leader and held up her hands incredulously at the group she rather abhorred.