( There's a visible discomfort in him at her gratitude, expressed in the way he seems to roll his eyes, to scoff in quiet disdain — he is not a man who knows how to receive praise well. He's hardly ever gotten it in his life, and the few times he has haven't been under good circumstances.
At her request, he raises the axe he'd been leaning on. One solid thunk has it sinking into the chopping block, firmly wedged and off the ground. And then he concedes, moving toward the bench with more gentleness and grace than a man his size ought to be capable of.
He settles in with his back sloping forward, with his elbows on his knees and hands gently clasped between them. With hair, as always, falling to cover the uglier side of his face, even though it's turned away from her.
Everything about him seems to read: There, now. He's done what you've asked, will you shut the fuck up about it already? )
The girl's not dead, if that's what you're worried about. She's a killer. She's quick. She'll be fine. If you've not heard news of her, it means she's being smart.
no subject
At her request, he raises the axe he'd been leaning on. One solid thunk has it sinking into the chopping block, firmly wedged and off the ground. And then he concedes, moving toward the bench with more gentleness and grace than a man his size ought to be capable of.
He settles in with his back sloping forward, with his elbows on his knees and hands gently clasped between them. With hair, as always, falling to cover the uglier side of his face, even though it's turned away from her.
Everything about him seems to read: There, now. He's done what you've asked, will you shut the fuck up about it already? )
The girl's not dead, if that's what you're worried about. She's a killer. She's quick. She'll be fine. If you've not heard news of her, it means she's being smart.