[ There's true irritation that flashes across Tom's features, eyes wide and face twisted into a frozen snarl. It's easy for Chloe to jostle him away from the body: he's not one for fighting. In any other circumstance, any other scenario, he would happily run the opposite direction on all fours if that's what it took to save his skin.
But this is different. This scenario is different. The cult attacking, the frenzy of fear and panic, the fire, the stakes, all of it is wrapped up in a way Tom both understands and doesn't. He's not clear headed. He never was. And this girl--he knows her, recognizes her, Chloe, isn't it?--has snapped him out of it with a jostle and a yell.
Tom's snarl shifts rapidly, eyes still wide and accusatory as he snaps not with fists, but with words. ]
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But this is different. This scenario is different. The cult attacking, the frenzy of fear and panic, the fire, the stakes, all of it is wrapped up in a way Tom both understands and doesn't. He's not clear headed. He never was. And this girl--he knows her, recognizes her, Chloe, isn't it?--has snapped him out of it with a jostle and a yell.
Tom's snarl shifts rapidly, eyes still wide and accusatory as he snaps not with fists, but with words. ]
It needs to work, Chloe!