“Yo, ya don’t see me dissin’ your hair, Ymir. Lay off,” Connie sighed, trying to shrug off the insults. “I said you’re weird, not you look weird.“
Glowering at the indignant teen before her she spat, “Well you’ve very well, managed to piss me off. Where I lack is where you succeed and vise-versa.”
A sudden burst of distraction overwhelmed his thought process momentarily. Out of nowhere, Connie felt the urge to ask Ymir a pressing question.
“Hey–by any chance, can you walk on your hands?”
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