[He stands by silently as she examines the wreckage made of the ship, holsters his pistol, his expression returning to one of impassive indifference now that the fighting is over, although with it's coating of fast-drying blood he no doubt looks more imposing than he had done before. More feral. He makes no move to try and wipe it away.
All the buzzing, jumping life in him, it's still there. The thrill of the hunt, of the ensuing carnage, the quick hot pulses all along his Spine and singing satisfyingly through his bones, but it's controlled now. Concealed. Out of sight.
His eyes go to her when she addresses him, though, and very slightly, he tilts his head.]
It isn't necessary, Ma'am. You don't have to do that.
no subject
All the buzzing, jumping life in him, it's still there. The thrill of the hunt, of the ensuing carnage, the quick hot pulses all along his Spine and singing satisfyingly through his bones, but it's controlled now. Concealed. Out of sight.
His eyes go to her when she addresses him, though, and very slightly, he tilts his head.]
It isn't necessary, Ma'am. You don't have to do that.