For a moment, Scar's feet stop dead in the shallow riverbed.
The thinking process of that decision is one, big...
?
Scar stares down at the significantly smaller woman for a moment, does his damnedest to process the honest, surprisingly lighthearted question, and draws the same blank he always does when someone inevitably asks him What the fuck? every couple of weeks or so.
"I didn't think I would be let in," is what eventually comes out of his mouth. It's as close to a concrete answer as he can conjure right now. He had to talk to Lust, to hell with everyone else.
You know, that sentiment that has worked so well for him in the past.
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The thinking process of that decision is one, big...
?
Scar stares down at the significantly smaller woman for a moment, does his damnedest to process the honest, surprisingly lighthearted question, and draws the same blank he always does when someone inevitably asks him What the fuck? every couple of weeks or so.
"I didn't think I would be let in," is what eventually comes out of his mouth. It's as close to a concrete answer as he can conjure right now. He had to talk to Lust, to hell with everyone else.
You know, that sentiment that has worked so well for him in the past.