Miranda was the first to her feet, although Ethan was pretty quick to follow.
"Get the hell out of here!" Miranda shouted.
"Now Miranda, that is no way to speak to an old friend," the man grumbled.
"You are no friend. You are a traitor and a murderer," she said, her voice softening.
"Who are you?" Ethan said as he brushed the dirt and leaves off of his suit jacket. One might have thought he would have been more fearful in these moments, but instead he felt a bit more apathetic. If the guy wanted me dead then I would be dead, he thought.
"My name is Rider," the man said with an annoyingly boastful tone. Ethan smirked.
"Wait, your name is Rider and you ride a horse?" He said, realizing he probably should have kept that as an inner thought.
"My name is irrelevant---" Rider started.
"I'd say it is awfully relevant," Miranda offered. Ethan looked over at her to realize she was now smirking as well. The joy of the deepest sarcasm is that it can curb a lot of other in-the-moment feelings.
"You are untrained, and entirely out of your depth. Your end will be met on this plane," Rider said sternly, clearly unphased by the witty remarks of those younger than him.
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