Shawna was about ready to shoot him. She left her frightened act behind with her calm disposition, off in La-La Land where they probably landed when she threw them. She glared at him.

“I hope you’re happy. You can kill me now as well, because I’m not going to marry you. You can marry my corpse, freak!” She stormed away and went back to her work, hitting the little clicky buttons so hard they may have become jammed.

Malakai sat there, staring into space, maybe at the spot her former self lay sprawled along the ground. Shawna was a furious human now, and humans tend to have…. violence when they’re furious. Wars and such.

“You only have about four medeclaires left, so good luck planning this wedding, or this execution.” Right, right, you’re on Earth.

Mediclaire= Pathagrin equivalent of a dollar.

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