“Huh, what?” the dreamer returned.
“Regional Defense. What kind of field assets would they have that are able to provide them with intel this detailed and unbeknownst to the Ofilius Blight Agency?”
She knew that she garnered his attention by his folded eyebrow line and scrunched nose, but most hurtful was his sigh of dissatisfaction to her inquiry.
Bitter life experiences had rendered Agent Mathew Branson untrusting of most, but it was Ashniin’s refreshing affinity that helped him to open up to other pathways of self-exploration.
Ashniin Rahcez was privy to areas of concern Mathew himself had yet to fully process, and she felt as though she understood at least some of his sorrows. Mainly, Ashniin enjoyed the intellectual nature of conversations with her team partner, and how easily stimulated they were. She was beginning to comprehend how the alienations of one group member degraded the foundations of well-knit bonds.
Mathew reacted to the sentiment and darted his attention in search of a response. “If you’re so interested in how those stiff office jockeys at Regional earn their pay then just submit your application already and save me the headache of your indecisions,” he replied sneeringly.
“Seriously? Based solely off this so-called reliable and singular source, we’re storming off into enemy territory again, and this time with a handful of hotheads too eager to prove nothing to everyone.”
The cruiser bopped and dipped, and yet Mathew’s sober gaze met her own several times.
“Snot-nose hotheads,” he corrected.