The Battlemage

How do you know it’s a him?’ Othello said, still sprawled across the front half of the shell, his eyes closed. ‘I checked,’ Cress said, her cheeks flushing red.

You horny devil, you,’ Cress said, slapping Sheldon’s shell. ‘You’re off to find a missus, aren’t you?

You don’t know what it’s like, Fletcher. Hundreds of years of subjugation. Pinkertons killing us with impunity; our lives ruled by the laws of our oppressors.

You horny devil, you,” Cress said, slapping Sheldon’s shell. “You’re off to find a missus, aren’t you?

You’re talking out of your arse,’ Fletcher said, shrugging. ‘The heathen beliefs of savages.