[Boss keeps her ground, towered over or not. His height only confirmed his blood relation to her and Sorrow. Sorrow especially. She accepts the knife. Wiping the blood off and sliding it back into its sheath. A sly smirk works its way into her features as she creens her neck up to peer at him.

This man...was not completely her son. There was a spunk to him...some fight in him. A leather glove sneaks up and playfully prods him in the chest.]

I can't decide if I want to love you or hate you.