[The line of his dark eyes falls to follow her fingers, lingering there at the wreath wrought so purposefully about her neck. If he considers the shape at length, it reminds him of a trap. A thing made of ravenous teeth made ready to spring shut.
(This is a dangerous business, he knows. It isn't a lie to say that the general has harmed him. Purposefully? No. But he has seen the aftermath enough tines to recognize a lack of a chagrin. What would Kirigan do, were he to tell him of this meeting and the pretenses under which Ralston has pursued it?)
His eyes return to her face, with all its purposefully fixed qualities.
A more sensible man might, in this moment, feel some flicker of trepidation. But no one has ever called Maejyr Michael Ralston such a thing.]
no subject
(This is a dangerous business, he knows. It isn't a lie to say that the general has harmed him. Purposefully? No. But he has seen the aftermath enough tines to recognize a lack of a chagrin. What would Kirigan do, were he to tell him of this meeting and the pretenses under which Ralston has pursued it?)
His eyes return to her face, with all its purposefully fixed qualities.
A more sensible man might, in this moment, feel some flicker of trepidation. But no one has ever called Maejyr Michael Ralston such a thing.]
Use you. For what?