And now she’s breathing faster, having to blink faster too, because her eyes are being stupid. Her hand stealthily drops to the loop at her right leg, that still doesn’t have that wonderful-perfect long-handled blue hammer. In lieu, she dials back to slow-motion swinging it into the back of Dark Mill South’s head, the hammer’s weight bringing her up onto her toes, even, because she wasn’t just swinging for the fences, she was swinging for Idaho Falls.
ARGH. GET ON WITH IT. QUIT DEFLATING THE TENSION WITH THESE LUDICROUS ASIDES.
