"Alright, first of all, shut up." Rocket snaps, pointing a clawed finger directly at her boots. "I know how sand works! Iām a genius, remember? I adjust the yield, tweak the frequency, and boom - sound dampeners. No vibrations, no extra mutts. Problem solved."
He drops his hand, pacing ->
Blam, murdered ya!
The way she acted, even how she turned to face him now, did scream 'fancy' and 'prideful,' like a soldier of an army that is long gone or the daughter of a noble family that holds no power anymore.
