[Mercy folds her arms over her chest with a pronounced 'hmph!', disturbing the butterfly for a moment before it wheels back to land on the back of her hand, which afterwards stays still and placid, even when her other hand clenches into a jagged fist.]
I am not staying here, you tedious wind-up doll.
[The sway of the machine's gait is mechanically soothing, like one of the cradle rocking devices found in the more fecund Houses. She stubbornly resists any inclination to relax into it, her slump a definitively uncomfortable one.]
I am certainly not going anywhere with booths, like some - harvest fair!
no subject
I am not staying here, you tedious wind-up doll.
[The sway of the machine's gait is mechanically soothing, like one of the cradle rocking devices found in the more fecund Houses. She stubbornly resists any inclination to relax into it, her slump a definitively uncomfortable one.]
I am certainly not going anywhere with booths, like some - harvest fair!