[ Honorably recusing herself from the game by way of confessing her honorless kill? All he can do is breathe another exasperated laugh, brushing past her again while she stands as rigid as a post. Lips tight, arms tight, defying all the needling pressure of the world. He decides he can believe she'd kill a man, after all. Not in a paroxysm of radiant violence - by by accident, maybe. In desperation, the lucky thrust of a knife or an impulsive shove while her foe stood at a cliff's edge. Something decidedly unheroic and, as she'd already divulged, accomplished without honor. ]

I never said the winner was the honorable murderer. [ His own contribution to this game would be judged cruel and craven and selfish, no doubt, and he isn't of the opinion that she has an enduring interest in discussing the finer points of killing and morality. Not with him, anyway.

But she is game enough to tell him her story, or to tell him a story, and he lets his mind conspire to paint an image of Dave Hollis and Sheriff Avery. Two witless cretins who may not have even been conscious? She isn't forthcoming with those details, but she does rally her resolve to swear she'd do it all again, and she is too haughty to have her crimes judged against his own. That's fine - he will judge them anyway, with or without a prize. ]

You killed two guards? Any boy worth half a turnip can do that. I'd hardly give you the glory of calling it honorless. How'd you do for them? Knife? Mule kick? Your wild little monkey fist to the throat? Or was it such happenstance that you don't even know how it was done?