Heeled Doors: A Narrative Fiction

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Heeled boots clicked against the hard wooden floor, taking a halt in the center of this rugged and filthy bar. Her dark blue eyes surveyed the room with contempt coating her face; a bunch of unsightly ruffians and brutes littered the premises.

A deliberate cough escaped her throat, “Excuse me?” she spoke her voice, but her statement disappeared among the noise of the other conversations. Standing her ground, she repeated herself louder — the same result as before. The ebony haired woman scrunched her face in exasperation, realizing she had no choice.

An ear-piercing crack erupted through the bar. Everyone in the bar flinched, facing what produce that deafening noise. The female in the center of the bar holstered her gun before reaching into
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Care to share the warmth, hun?” he flashed her a closed-lip grin. The olive-skinned woman groaned, not responding to his request, “You don’t want me dying of frostbite, do you?” she rose to her feet, heading to the carriage.

“Why do you insist on causing me trouble?” the rhetorical question flew from her mouth in annoyance, but her decision to assist the bound man caused a genuine smile to cover his face. Once the bounty hunter aided him, depositing him beside the fire, she rested herself before the fire. Raising her freezing hands over the fire, she rubbed them together in an attempt to heat them up.
Silence enveloped between the adults causing the male to develop an anxious feeling. About to utter a word, he shut his orifice. His hazel eyes danced around as he contemplated his next action. Eyes landed on the female eyeing him with a raised brow. With pursed lips, he continued to rake his brain.

Suddenly, a question dawned on him, “How did you know I was the man on the poster?” realizing his top hat concealed his identity, he wondered how she deciphered him. A grumble emanated from her throat, not desiring to respond to him, “Please, tell me. My curiosity is piqued.” he pleaded. struggling to lean up. The woman ground her teeth together,
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His hazel eyes softened, “I cannot comprehend its dire requirement.” she mumbled under her breath, considering how fake it appeared. Amos heard her, but choose to keep his orifice close on the matter.

“Ah, King Kyne, fascinating fellow.” stifling a laugh, the brunet gazed up to the star-filled sky. Then, the blue eyed adult’s mind began running, pondering questions as well. A deliberate cough awakened Amos from his trance. Hazel eyes locked onto exhausted ones.

“How did you purloin the ring?” the brunet reminisced about his method, chuckling as he plopped his back against the ground.

“One can say, he practically gave it to me.” his vague response generated a confused appearance on the olive-skinned woman’s face.

Tilting her head to the side she continued questioning the male, “Why acquire that ring, but nothing else?” a hint of irritation coated her words as she clutched her hands into fists.

“He— I hear it leads to riches and such.” dubious, the woman raised a brow, but her curiosity compelled her to crawl over to the bound male. Her hands extended, attempting to remove the ring from his index finger, but to her surprise that attempt

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