[They did not call for her help, they nearly round on her with something akin to a snarl. They do not acknowledge her immediately, their attention wholly fixed on jimmying loose whatever nails they can. It is slow, arduous going, inefficient at best, and yet - they refuse to be beaten by little more than a wooden crate.
They refuse.
Their teeth gritted, they eke out the words, taking care not to growl them out like some sort of - like the beast they are:]
Patience, miss.
[And this time they do not attack the nails holding the lid down; they attack the lid itself, jamming the butt end of the crowbar against the wood, striking it until it cracks and yields.
If they accrue splinters in the process, it will hardly be the worst sort of impaling they've received in their protracted lifetime.]
no subject
They refuse.
Their teeth gritted, they eke out the words, taking care not to growl them out like some sort of - like the beast they are:]
Patience, miss.
[And this time they do not attack the nails holding the lid down; they attack the lid itself, jamming the butt end of the crowbar against the wood, striking it until it cracks and yields.
If they accrue splinters in the process, it will hardly be the worst sort of impaling they've received in their protracted lifetime.]