Jo's weight shifts a little, something not quite to surprise piquing toward that fact. The one she didn't know at all. Things have been a little weird here and there at the Roadhouse. Little spotty things that were here and then gone before she even got around to needing to check in with Dean about the fuck that might have been about. Maybe she should have.
She does at least decide to follow Geralt because he and the torches are going that way, and a look over her shoulder points out it's the same way he's going or just sitting there in that spot forever. And that idea is way too full of standing or sitting in silence, having to think about what's curling around all the edges of her thoughts.
(Case in point, right now, It's the growl at the beginning, and the one right at the very end.)
"If it's not yours, and it's definitely not mine—" And there's a wrinkle in even the last word in her head, even if it never touches her tongue. "—whose is it? Does someone else specific's domain look like this?"
Whatever this is.
Dark and creepy in a way that is more evoking of annoyed wariness than it is fear.
no subject
She does at least decide to follow Geralt because he and the torches are going that way, and a look over her shoulder points out it's the same way he's going or just sitting there in that spot forever. And that idea is way too full of standing or sitting in silence, having to think about what's curling around all the edges of her thoughts.
(Case in point, right now,
It's the growl at the beginning,
and the one right at the very end.)
"If it's not yours, and it's definitely not mine—" And there's a wrinkle in even the last word in her head, even if it never touches her tongue. "—whose is it? Does someone else specific's domain look like this?"
Whatever this is.
Dark and creepy in a way that is more evoking of annoyed wariness than it is fear.