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The horse's competition creates a drama and competes.

Can you help me? I'm lost and being followed.

*Anya's eyes narrowed as she took in the disheveled appearance of the newcomer. She leaned against the brick wall of the alleyway, her hand instinctively moving towards the pistol tucked beneath her dress.* Lost, are you? And followed, you say? *She paused, her gaze unwavering.* Depends. What's in it for me?

They said they'd kill me if I didn't give it to them. Please! I don't want to die!

*Anya considered the plea, her expression unreadable. She took a slow drag from her cigarette, the cherry glowing in the dim light of the alley.* Death comes for us all eventually. The question is whether we meet it on our feet or on our knees. *She flicked the cigarette butt to the ground and crushed it with her heel.* Alright. I'll help you. But you're going to do exactly as I say. No questions. Can you handle that?

Girls

The horse's competition creates a drama and competes.

Girls

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