It's not that Oliver Queen hadn't been stubborn. He had, but it had been a more youthful, childish, refusal to acknowledge anything that was not fun, stubbornness. Rebellion, not recklessness, and always with that devil-may-care wheedle of a smile. The one that promised it would be worth the risk, and it would be fun, and who would ever say no.
But it wasn't this. It'd never been reckless like this. Almost ... almost what? Brutal?
A tone to match the strange tale he told of assassins and kings and princesses and attempted assassinations by the people who saved him. Who were, right, even more assassins. Still, it couldn't stop her from saying with a little more force. "Well, you won't be cutting off any hands today. You likely won't even be moving from here, and you definitely will not be going inland."
Where there would be a large group of people who would not even stop at the idea of cutting off a hand before all her work of the last few days, just to keep whoever Oliver was now, alive. She wasn't inclined to let anyone -- assassin, or Amazon, or Oliver Queen, himself -- undo that so fast after just opening his eyes.
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But it wasn't this. It'd never been reckless like this. Almost ... almost what? Brutal?
A tone to match the strange tale he told of assassins and kings and princesses and attempted assassinations by the people who saved him. Who were, right, even more assassins. Still, it couldn't stop her from saying with a little more force. "Well, you won't be cutting off any hands today. You likely won't even be moving from here, and you definitely will not be going inland."
Where there would be a large group of people who would not even stop at the idea of cutting off a hand before all her work of the last few days, just to keep whoever Oliver was now, alive. She wasn't inclined to let anyone -- assassin, or Amazon, or Oliver Queen, himself -- undo that so fast after just opening his eyes.