[ He is young, and he knows it. Many times he has been condescended to because of it, but there's never a need to prove himself, to prove anything, just for the sake of it. Let them be wrong.
To think that all she wants is for him to survive just makes him narrow his eyes again, the beginning of a sneer tugging at his lips. He cannot believe it, will not trust so easily, but he does catch the heavy revolver easily anyway. Turns it over in his hand, surprised, frowning as he examines it while listening for anyone move, before he turns that frown on her. What do you get out of this? Waiting for the catch, for the other shoe to drop. There must be something. People, his life has taught him, are not charitable for charity's sake, not generous, not good, not kind, not helpful if there is nothing for them to gain.
That doesn't mean their help is any less valuable, though. With a sharp exhale through his nose, he forces some of the tension out of his posture, lowering the weapon to his side. Fine. He doesn't contradict her assumption that he's alone. ] Now what?
[ Good, is what she thinks, all firm and savage. He has reflexes at all, he knows how to grip the weapon without being afraid of what it might do. What sort of woman was she becoming? That even as she says one things, all she can think, is that this fight will never end. That hands are needed to fight it.
Her eyes flick him over again, and gives a brief nod to him. Then she turns and this is far more direct. She gesturing at those hidden away. A nod to one alley, another to another corner where Devi stood back. A flick of her fingers to show dismissal. ]
Come, it is not safe to linger here, I am sure you know that already.
[ Then she beckons with a step back, into those shadows she wears well enough as anything else. Changeable, but the gold still glitters. ]
[ She looks... satisfied. With his reaction, perhaps? With something. Files it away to examine again later, watches as she orders her people as she needs without even a word. Scoffs, then. ]
Yeah, I noticed. [ Difficult not to. He follows as she beckons, uprooting his feet from where he planted them, once more ignoring the ache of still moving despite fatigue, despite too little rest and too little food. Falls into step with her, but not without making note of her shadows, where they were, where they might be now. How quiet her steps are, as well. The gun he stows away, it vanishes under his jacket with barely a trace. Names haven't been exchanged, but that much might be to be expected.
He doesn't ask where they're going. At least, not yet. ]
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To think that all she wants is for him to survive just makes him narrow his eyes again, the beginning of a sneer tugging at his lips. He cannot believe it, will not trust so easily, but he does catch the heavy revolver easily anyway. Turns it over in his hand, surprised, frowning as he examines it while listening for anyone move, before he turns that frown on her. What do you get out of this? Waiting for the catch, for the other shoe to drop. There must be something. People, his life has taught him, are not charitable for charity's sake, not generous, not good, not kind, not helpful if there is nothing for them to gain.
That doesn't mean their help is any less valuable, though. With a sharp exhale through his nose, he forces some of the tension out of his posture, lowering the weapon to his side. Fine. He doesn't contradict her assumption that he's alone. ] Now what?
no subject
Her eyes flick him over again, and gives a brief nod to him. Then she turns and this is far more direct. She gesturing at those hidden away. A nod to one alley, another to another corner where Devi stood back. A flick of her fingers to show dismissal. ]
Come, it is not safe to linger here, I am sure you know that already.
[ Then she beckons with a step back, into those shadows she wears well enough as anything else. Changeable, but the gold still glitters. ]
no subject
Yeah, I noticed. [ Difficult not to. He follows as she beckons, uprooting his feet from where he planted them, once more ignoring the ache of still moving despite fatigue, despite too little rest and too little food. Falls into step with her, but not without making note of her shadows, where they were, where they might be now. How quiet her steps are, as well. The gun he stows away, it vanishes under his jacket with barely a trace. Names haven't been exchanged, but that much might be to be expected.
He doesn't ask where they're going. At least, not yet. ]