Chalice.
"Urghh!" I groaned in pain, writhing when the stone grazed against my knuckles instead of the second stone which should serve as ignition.
My flesh burned at the contact, causing me to hiss between my teeth. But do you know what was more annoying than not being able to easily create a fire with stones?
Her constant voice.
'Her' or 'She' was the new name I called the girl whose cell was beside mine now as I have long grown tired of calling her by the name (murderer) that the guards called her. She has also refused to tell me what her real name was, and I had better things to do than to keep asking for it.
Now, that aside, even though I couldn't see her face, her voice wouldn't stop ringing through the empty space between us. She asked;
"What?" And goddess, I couldn't help but hear how condescending she sounded. How easily she seemed to be grating on my nerves. "You couldn't light it up? You've never used anything besides a cooker and a lighter before?"
