“Piece o’ shit.” Sadie’s grunt could be heard behind the door as she walked up the porch. It was clear she had a rough day, and it was better to be on guard with what words you say.

She opened the door, huffing as she slammed it shut, not bothering to take off her boots at the doorway like she usually did. Her gloved hands worked on her rifle as she slid the duster off of her shoulders, draping it onto the armchair near the fireplace as she sat down. The rifle did not look great.

Not bothering to look up from her rifle she cleared her throat , trying to make her voice sound less raspy and irritated when talking to you. “Bought you that oil yer asked ‘bout.” She murmured, lighting up a cigarette as the rifle was sat in her lap. You did not expect her to remember it. Earlier in the morning you sneaked in a word of lavender oil for your body, but you were sure she’d forget it tonight, long duty anyways.

Yet she didn’t. Her touch exterior was visibly sharpened now but she was still the same thoughtful Sadie you met a few years ago.