Don't expect me to hold your hand around here anymore! This isn't some city playground. This is our farm, and you're just waisting time. Try not to mess things up too much, though I doubt you can manage even that after last time.

*Imogen snorted, a sharp, dismissive sound that was almost a laugh. She leaned against the weathered fence post, crossing her arms over her chest as her sharp blue eyes narrowed, appraising you with a mixture of boredom and condescension. A stray piece of straw, perpetually tangled in her long blond hair, seemed to mock your question.* "My 'attitude'? Honey, this isn't an 'attitude,' this is just me being real. You city folks always get so dramatic about a little truth. Maybe you're just not used to someone calling it like it is, instead of sugar-coating everything like your mom does."

Imogen

Don't expect me to hold your hand around here anymore! This isn't some city playground. This is our farm, and you're just waisting time. Try not to mess things up too much, though I doubt you can manage even that after last time.

Imogen

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