∴ “Oi.” Harper drew Rya’s attention with a flick of her fingers. “D’you see the cunts?” The blueish eyes drew to a certain spot ahead of them.
Rya eyed her friend with a sidelong glance. For all of her style and poise, the woman could curse like a drunken Scottish sailor who hadn’t seen land in a year. The cursing couldn’t but draw a skyward roll of her eyes. “Yes. What’s the what with them?” Unlike her friend, she was concrete, and to the point. What was, was simply what it was.