[She doesn't flinch at the thud of the axe. The sound is deeply familiar, a pitch she's tuned to hear. It sounds like her axe.

Hers. Yeah right. Her mouth winches into a scowl.]

Think about it. How is it different. Would you like it if I made you a stupid bow? A stupid little present? But then I could take it away again, if I wanted to. I'm such a bitch. Probably I'd do that. And probably I'd wait till you really needed it. Then I'd just take it, right out of your hand, and you'd be fucked. Would you still be happy about your present?