Dawn was coming soon, the bugs were quiet across the land but the birds could still hear them, their morning ruckus tuning up. But for Genny and her prisoner it was late. Dried blood was still splattered across her face as she was too busy holding tight the rope keeping her prisoner captive. The boy whose hands were bound shared the same red hair, the same fair skin, the same summer green eyes, and to top it off the same quaff as well. As though a mirror image were walking itself. Of course Genny was slightly shaplier and had, undeniably, slight yet unimpressive breasts. Tennant had just enough more muscle mass to make him seem a man rather than a boy, but he was gaunt and malnurished with an awkward protruding adam's apple.
The sky had begun to yawn and stetch, the purple hues of dawns dying the clouds and summer sky. The town was light though the sun was still abed, light enough that the strange sight of the two, or of anyone at all, alerted the constable at his post. His approach was just what Genny had anticipated and rather than hand him over with little instructions and her word that this was their man she instructed him to summon a one Mr. Glenn Burnie. If he gave her any trouble the red-headed woman would be fiestier than she had ever been prior, holding her ground and demanding it of him with more tenacity than fortress wall. She would wait at the offices where she had been summoned by him several weeks ago now.
