Oh, shit hit a nerve. Briar just cackled with derision, having the time of her life as the two-faced boy spit that he wasn't most people. She recognized the fire he flirted with, the challenge he spit, could even imagine she felt the way bursts of energy were exploding under the skin, egging her on, daring her to rise to the bait.
Oh. Wait. That was her adrenaline. :)

The boy sneered, and Briar met the twisted expression with one of her own, a daring grin still bending her lips. Good, most people are boring, she hissed back, apparently delighted by his answer and practically prancing in place. Too many didn't know how to let loose and have real fun. Too many didn't know to defend their truths with nail and tooth, that the struggle was more of the journey as whatever goal you might have in mind. For some, a philosophy, by others, a physical finish line to their dreams; it was all too much for Briar to care about, she just wanted to go where she wanted, do what she liked, and everyone went and complicated it with morals and borders and other stupid shit.

How would she like being called shrimp? The audacity of the chosen word slapped Briar in the face, and for a split second, she paused, features faltering, blinking incredulously. Her head tipped to the side dramatically, and her teeth bared in a wicked grin.

So he wanted to fire shots, did he? He'd have to do better than that.

I'd ask what that made you, she jeered in almost a good-natured way, The obvious answers are blind or stupid if you think I'm a shrimp, but I sure hope you've got something more witty for either one of us behind that cute little snoot of yours because it'd be a shame if you were just as bubbleheaded and lame as everyone else. Come on, what else y'got?