[ lance nods mutely, glancing around. he tries not to look too obvious about it, worried he would give his own self away in the process. but he's on frayed nerves, and there's no denying it in the way he moves, the way his eyes dart around. it's a weird sort of adrenaline — the restless kind that burns with a need to do something, but hindered by overwhelming uncertainty and insecurity. it couldn't have been more than a week ago that he failed to prevent a murder from happening within this very district, and now this... ]
—there, [ he rasps. he points towards a man in a hat glancing about, trying to push his way through a crowd. his mind pulses. ] Maybe him??
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—there, [ he rasps. he points towards a man in a hat glancing about, trying to push his way through a crowd. his mind pulses. ] Maybe him??