[The line of his chin raises by a degree, by two above the high collar of his shabby coat. It's resistance to that notion, yes, but it's something else too—the way an animal cocks when fascinated by something; the stubborn tip of a hard mouthed horse's nose in its bridle.]
No, I don't think that's right.
[This, slowly. Turning a stone over and musing over the things he has found wriggling beneath it. He studies her down the length of his nose (a feat, given their relative positions), knowing in that moment perfectly well what his importance is to the general is. His utility. Without that there would be no association to speak of, much less one to obscure—]
Ah. [His smile widens into teeth.] He doesn't trust you.
no subject
No, I don't think that's right.
[This, slowly. Turning a stone over and musing over the things he has found wriggling beneath it. He studies her down the length of his nose (a feat, given their relative positions), knowing in that moment perfectly well what his importance is to the general is. His utility. Without that there would be no association to speak of, much less one to obscure—]
Ah. [His smile widens into teeth.] He doesn't trust you.