This was not where she had expected to be, tonight: about to dangle herself off the edge of a cliff in the dead of night, so some bloodsucker could get his jollies. She let him manhandle her into the harness – manhandle being the operative word – and her face showed her displeasure the whole time, but she endured in relative silence. At least he seemed to know what he was doing, and that was a comfort. A small one.
She was in the middle of checking all her knots for the hundred thosandth time when her redheaded companion spoke to her. Looking up, lips still pursed in concentration, she snorted, "Morgaine. And if I bite it, you\'d better get ready to be next," She cringed, instantly regretting her choice of words. Bite it. How ironic. She went on quickly, "\'Cause, vampire or not, my friends\'ll fuckin\' kick your ass." Or at least they\'d try really really hard. She was pretty sure.
"I know this is going pretty far out on a limb here, but assuming you had friends, what would they call you? I mean, aside from bad names?" She smiled at him as she backed toward the edge of the cliff, leaning her small weight against the rope experimentally.
She checked to make sure she wasn\'t too far away for when she jumped, and made the mistake of looking down. The moonlight didn\'t penetrate all the way to the base of the sheer face, which only served to make it appear bottomless, "Aw, shit." She turned away quickly, preferring instead to look at the sky. She wasn\'t afraid of heights, but that drop was enough to frighten anybody, "Dip me in chocolate and throw me to the lesbians, that\'s a long way to the ground," she muttered, soft enough that he wouldn\'t have been able to hear, had he been human (old habits die hard). Then, louder, "Why do I have to go first, again?"