The mongoose looked at Kaya through half-closed eyes, his breathing shallow and ragged. Blood dripped from his mouth, pooling beneath him on the cold floor. His whole body trembled—not from cold, but from pure, primal fear.
And then, in one last act of defiance, he gathered what little saliva and blood he could muster in his broken mouth and spat it directly at her face.
Ptooey!
Kaya's head tilted just slightly—smooth, effortless—and the bloody glob sailed past her cheek, splattering onto the floor behind her.
Splat.
She straightened slowly, looking down at the mess on the ground. For a moment, her expression was unreadable. Then she looked back at him, and that playful glint returned to her eyes.
"Like, really?" she said, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.
The mongoose glared up at her, mustering whatever defiance he had left. "If you have the guts," he rasped out, his voice cracking, "then just kill me! Do you really think I'll speak?"
