"Rodeo," she repeated aloud, letting the word roll on her tongue to try it out and see how it sat. Satisfied, she smiled and nodded as if it was in approval. "Like with bulls. I like it." It was almost humorous how, sometimes, it was the little things that amused the wash junkie. She spent her time scrounging in the tunnels and avoiding the above world, so it was no wonder she was so easily amused.
She was also easily bored, and God help anyone who bored her.
At the mention of the "big dog," Emilie shrugged her slender shoulders and wiggled her broken fingers despite the pain that screamed through them. "He said I wouldn't," Emilie said as though it was the most obvious answer in all the world. "Said I was scared, so I had to show 'im that I wasn't." She smiled then, the expression a tad softer than before.
"He was a big dog, but his bite wasn't so bad."
And then Bishop was prodding at her again, like she didn't know exactly what he was doing. Clearly, he thought Emilie was far more stupid than she was when, in reality, she was still sharp as her bowie knife. Crazy as a bag of cats, but sharp.
"You're handsome," she told Bishop, turning her attention onto him instead. "Give us a kiss."