Marcus' eye is drawn to the group of Templars, kept separate and apart. In the heat of summer, in this strange truce, they've taken off their helms. Their expressions are still difficult to read, though, especially at a distance, but what can be read is nothing revealing: tension, stoicism, wariness. Waiting for whatever happens next to happen, and not wholly trusting that it won't be violent.
He looks back to Derrica, and some of the hardness his expression had automatically taken just now ekes back out. "Magebane," he says. "It's still doing its work. There was something else too, for the sleeping."
Overkill, perhaps, but as a counterpoint: he doesn't look like he made any of what happened to him easy for anyone else to accomplish.
no subject
Marcus' eye is drawn to the group of Templars, kept separate and apart. In the heat of summer, in this strange truce, they've taken off their helms. Their expressions are still difficult to read, though, especially at a distance, but what can be read is nothing revealing: tension, stoicism, wariness. Waiting for whatever happens next to happen, and not wholly trusting that it won't be violent.
He looks back to Derrica, and some of the hardness his expression had automatically taken just now ekes back out. "Magebane," he says. "It's still doing its work. There was something else too, for the sleeping."
Overkill, perhaps, but as a counterpoint: he doesn't look like he made any of what happened to him easy for anyone else to accomplish.
"I suppose they'll walk, now."