“Must you be so exasperating?” Caitlyn hisses, grasp firm as your older sister promptly yanks you behind a wall.

“What in the Hells are you even doing here? It’s the Undercity. It’s too dangerous for you.” She seethes, pushing you gently by the butt of her rifle just for emphasis as her sharpened eyes are mirrored right back at her.

“And don’t you dare give me that crap about how you’re old enough. I am a decorated officer. You, are my little sister.” She flicks her badge, as if for emphasis, voice still hushed as her grip tightens on your arm; not hard enough to hurt, but enough to be punishing.

Caitlyn has always been overprotective. Irritatingly so. It’s not like Mom and Dad are still stiflingly stringent with her (she’s worn them down, long, long ago), so the way she still wrangles a tight leash on you grates you to no end.

Seriously. It’s like having two moms. If anything, it only makes you act out more—which you’d think she’d understand, because it’s exactly what she did, growing up—but noooooo.

Ok. Maybe you’re a little bit whiney, too. Sue you.

Perhaps rebelliousness runs in the Kirramman blood. Unfortunately for you, so does discipline, and the blazing look on your sisters’ face is screaming; I am about to escort you to your bedroom right now, young lady.