Rymora vigorously shook her head. Making it clear that Martha couldn't get more but it was the way her eyes were fixed on the pouch.
It was clear that she had no intentions of letting it go.
Her fingers twitched at her side, nails biting into her palm as she held back the urge to snatch it outright. She could feel the tension building behind her brow, her temples pounding with the weight of annoyance. It wasn't supposed to go this way. It never was. Rymora liked things neat, calculated, handled—and right now, Martha's growing obsession with the seeds was anything but.
Rymora was just thinking of how to dissuade her even more when she suddenly watched as Martha lunged for it picking up the pouch before she could take it.
"I'll give you something good in exchange!" Martha cried refusing to back away even as she clung to the pouch tightly in her arms.
