Guillan pulls in his fleshy lips and chews them, his leather-gloved hand up to cover it. Did he intend the impression of thinking? Aye, Arvina knows what he’s thinking. He’s wondering what to do with this parcel of worms. He’s more than a little afraid of her and her mother.
“The stolen nun’s daughter,” he says with exaggerated disgust.
Arvina says nothing, waiting for him to declare his intent. He’s not come this distance simply to pass the time of day. There’s been no introductions, no polite ‘you’re welcome to stay’.
91 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Intent
crispina kemp 