[ At that Brianna can't help but crack a wry smile. ]
I don't think some of them thought you'd make it through the night.
[ She's ever watchful as he moves, almost like a parent might be with a child, which... is somewhat accurate, in a way. Not that the thought has crossed her mind yet. There hasn't been the time for her to really sit and think about what she's done and what that means going forward. Probably later that day or the next, after she's had a chance to decently rest or just has a bit of time to herself. ]
The normal kind. I hope you're not a vegetarian. [ It's just an idle comment, not a dig in any way.
Before she moves to get up herself Brianna uses a scrap of fabric from what had been his shirt to pick up the ring and necklace he'd tore off the night before, wrapping it in the fabric to keep from touching any bit of silver and tucking it in her pants pocket so it doesn't get left behind. She has no intention of keeping it from him, it's just easier — and safer — for her to carry it, and she starts to say as much when something catches her attention.
Her nose twitches and she looks toward where she knows the main door to be, tensing up for a moment. Company is coming. She's on her feet in an instant, moving to the cell door and unlocking it as quickly as she can. Standing in the doorway, Brianna looks back his way, wanting to tell him to hurry it up a bit.
Before she can there's a rumbling growl that definitely doesn't come from her. She doesn't tense but she's certainly not pleased when she turns to see the pack leader nearing.
An older balding male with an undeniably rough look, as much from his clothing as several visible scars, and the sort of gaze that near-always seems to be scheming. His eyes are dark, more wolf than human, and when he looks in the cell there's nothing kind in the partial smile that crosses his face. ]
"And how is the little hunter this morning?" [ There's a permanent growl that seems to back his voice, if not necessarily outright aggressive, though displeasure seeps in when he notices the lack of restraints. ] "He weaseled out of the restraints, did he?"
[ Those dark eyes land on her as the question comes and Brianna doesn't flinch; it's not the first time she's been on the end of that look. ]
icon game on point as always
I don't think some of them thought you'd make it through the night.
[ She's ever watchful as he moves, almost like a parent might be with a child, which... is somewhat accurate, in a way. Not that the thought has crossed her mind yet. There hasn't been the time for her to really sit and think about what she's done and what that means going forward. Probably later that day or the next, after she's had a chance to decently rest or just has a bit of time to herself. ]
The normal kind. I hope you're not a vegetarian. [ It's just an idle comment, not a dig in any way.
Before she moves to get up herself Brianna uses a scrap of fabric from what had been his shirt to pick up the ring and necklace he'd tore off the night before, wrapping it in the fabric to keep from touching any bit of silver and tucking it in her pants pocket so it doesn't get left behind. She has no intention of keeping it from him, it's just easier — and safer — for her to carry it, and she starts to say as much when something catches her attention.
Her nose twitches and she looks toward where she knows the main door to be, tensing up for a moment. Company is coming. She's on her feet in an instant, moving to the cell door and unlocking it as quickly as she can. Standing in the doorway, Brianna looks back his way, wanting to tell him to hurry it up a bit.
Before she can there's a rumbling growl that definitely doesn't come from her. She doesn't tense but she's certainly not pleased when she turns to see the pack leader nearing.
An older balding male with an undeniably rough look, as much from his clothing as several visible scars, and the sort of gaze that near-always seems to be scheming. His eyes are dark, more wolf than human, and when he looks in the cell there's nothing kind in the partial smile that crosses his face. ]
"And how is the little hunter this morning?" [ There's a permanent growl that seems to back his voice, if not necessarily outright aggressive, though displeasure seeps in when he notices the lack of restraints. ] "He weaseled out of the restraints, did he?"
[ Those dark eyes land on her as the question comes and Brianna doesn't flinch; it's not the first time she's been on the end of that look. ]
A shift would be difficult if he remained bound.
"Yes, it would."