Pressing her lips to a thin line, she huffed and, with the sharp exhalation sent all of the papers save the ones trapped beneath his hand to shoot against the far side of the booth with none of the fluttering playfulness of the previous sheathes. Unwrapping herself from around his shoulders, she reached into the recesses of her cloak and slapped something heavy and metallic down onto the table centimeters from where his pen scrawled, trapped beneath her tiny palm for a moment before she released it and straightened. "But only some of them matter, evidently."
The pocket watch was relatively small, easily concealable, and bore distinct markings across its gilded cover that glimmered, glossy and dark, in the dim lantern lighting of his trailer. "I thought you'd like it. You really aren't any fun any more, Kennet. I wonder what she'd think of that...?"