( the unimpressed look she levels at will might have been a lot more threatening if 1) will were anyone else and 2) if she had more bandwidth to put any real malice behind it — which, at the moment, she doesn't. mostly she's just annoyed and biting back the shooting pain in her leg. she leans against him, thankful for some relief when she's able to shift her weight, but his smart mouth is not doing him any favors in improving her mood. )

Over my dead body. ( see, the joke is: she knows he won't let her die, so good luck ever getting her to say please. as they shuffle toward the back room, clarisse tries to take stock of her injuries, but honestly she lost track around the time she got fucking bit. ) You should probably check, just to be sure. I wasn't exactly keeping inventory while I was fighting for my fucking life.