Sleeping in the Cold

She didn't give him time to make a scene. Once they stepped outside and the shack door closed behind them with a loud thud, she exhaled and turned to him, still holding onto his sleeve.

"Every time I see you interact with a new thing, I keep being forced to accept that you truly suffer from brain damage- I mean, amnesia. You really don't know how these types work, do you, Uncle?" she said with a smirk, though her tone stayed quiet. 

"Old men like that—and especially the grumpy, crippled war-vet types? They're all about the strict master-disciple thing. There's no chatting, no bantering, no small talk. If he says something, you do it. No questions. Otherwise, he'll probably see it as disrespect and throw you out. In his head, he's doing you a favor by accepting you as a student. You have no grounds to speak back."

Quinlan gave her a sidelong glance. "He told me to sleep outside."