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Cold sweat clings to her body, and she claws at the sheets to get to her lower body until the voice calls out to her. "Hey, hey, are you alright?" Rhannah yanks the covers off of the screaming horse.

Halia feels over her face, checking to make sure the prosthetic is still properly in place. She stares, wide-eyed, snorting and kicking the rest of the covers off of her. It takes another few seconds for her to finally stop hyperventilating and to look at the bovine stranger. Rhannah had found an apron and a pair of gloves and is now holding a plastic trash bag in her free hand. Halia had shoved them away into some forgotten drawer somewhere "The... the hell?" Halia stumbles to her feet, rubbing her jaw. It clicks back into place. "What are you doing here?"

"I figured you could use some help," Rhannah says. "Your place is a mess, and you were in a bad way."

"So that makes it okay for you to barge in here and start throwing away my shit?" She snatches the bag, opening it up and glancing inside. She immediately closes it, coughing from the pungent odor. "O... okay, maybe you could throw that stuff out. But seriously, what kind of crazy stalker are you to-"

Rhannah places her finger against the horse's mouth to hush her. She narrows her eyes. "I found these buried under unused coupons of yours." She shoves the envelopes into Halia's hands.

The equine looks over them. Each of them the usual late notices for rent. Halia huffs and tosses them away. "What's it to you?"

"You're practically evicted already. And the state this place is in basically makes it condemned. What kind of way is it for a veteran to live, paycheck to paycheck, working at bars, and spending the rest of her time drinking herself to death by mixing her meds with booze? "

"I can take care of myself, 'mom.'"

"Oh, can you?" Rhannah says. "Because, the way I see it, the only problems you seem to be able to fix are the ones you can punch your way out of." She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and rolls her neck. "But... I've been thinking."

"Oh, have you now?" Halia says.

"Yes, since I first saw you, the idea came to me, but I wanted to make sure. I require some help, and I think you're the right mare for the job."

"Am I... well, what if I'm not in the market for a job?"

"Then, you're in the market for living on the streets. What are you going to do, then, turn tricks?"

"Why the hell do you care so much?"

"Because you're a damn hero throwing her life away!" Rhannah shouts.

There's quiet between the two for a bit. Halia marches towards her drawers. "That's bullshit."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh? Right. Cowshit!" Halia snaps back. "I can tell when someone's trying to use me, and I don't need that. Now, will you kindly get the fu-"

"I need an assistant," Rhannah says. "Someone who can hold her own in a fight and can take orders. You fit the bill."

"You think I'll be a good little soldier for you?"

"No, more like a butler, actually."

"Ha, that's rich," Halia says. "And, why would I say 'yes' to the crazy person who abducted me?"

Rhannah approaches her, placing a hand upon Halia's shoulder. "Because I can just tell you're the kind of person who thrives under the right pressure. You say you don't like people telling you what to do, and yet, your accomplishments all come from fields in which you are a follower. Here you are with your own place and your own rules, and you make it a mess. You stumble from job to job, dropping each one only to stumble into the next, and you don't have any friends, because you don't stop to have the initiative to talk to anyone. Everyone has to come to you."

Halia squeezes the handle of her gun drawer, her eyes returning to her pictures--her family, her unit. "Yeah...? You really got me figured out, don't you?"

"I want someone who can take orders and who can learn to be more than she is."

"Last time I took orders, I came out less than what I was," Halia says. "You expect me to do that again?"

"I can provide you an easy out if you'd like."

"You're doing a lot for a job," Halia says, turning around, leaning against the drawer. "There's a catch here."

Rhannah sighs, pulling the gloves off of her hands. "Truth be told, I find you a fascinating creature. I would love to learn more about you the right way if you'd let me. Come to my place. Let's talk about this someplace with more breathing room."

"And you think I'll go with you, why?"

Rhannah places her hands on her hips, a smirk over her face. "Well, a few things. One... you haven't pulled out your guns. If you weren't interested in me, you would have kicked my butt as soon as you woke up. And if you weren't so comfortable with me, you would have gotten dressed."

Halia glances at her undergarments on full display and actually let out a little chuckle. "Well, look at that. Guess you've read me like a book, haven't you?"

"How does that make you feel?" Rhannah asks, tapping her own cheek.

Halia narrows her gaze. She pulls her drawer open and slips on a pair of shorts.

"Find something comfortable. We're getting breakfast," Rhannah says, flipping her phone open and walking out of the room. "Chase, dear. Let's get ready to pick us up."