In case I decide to quit being a warden. Steal off to the past and make books, figure out what whiskey is- never mind what horses look like- and give you a run for your money?

[She teases, turning to face him, leaning her back up against the board. She won't use it for anything else, in all likelihood, and she sure as hell isn't going to be the lovely assistant.

It's a little bit edgy, even playing at threatening to challenge him on this, his turf. She only tries to get away with it because she is so profoundly lost here. She softens the words with the smallest, slightest shrink into the solidity of the board. Furiosa does not show her throat easily or often, but doesn't mind him knowing that this is all wild to her. Especially since it comes couched with another smirk.]

Think they'd mind I'm a woman?