[The thief watched the creature with a keen eye, picking up on the slight movements that hinted at its more relaxed, calmer state of mind. As far as the blackhand's demeanor went, for the most part Garrett appeared easy in his crouch, comfortable even. It was a position from which, even in a relaxed state, he could easily perform over a dozen different maneuvers that would get him in or out of trouble. It was an obviously well practiced stance for him.
The thief was clearly unaffected by the dry response--or perhaps, inwardly, amused--and as for the clarifying question, Garrett simply shifted slightly and looked out at the city. Boundaries had never meant anything to him. Not even when the supernatural came out of the darkness to play.
But, he was a cautious man by nature. It had kept him alive this long, in this deadly profession he played at, so why change now. He considered the careful tone and what it meant. Maybe, even, guessed it right.]
The bow's not for hunting, if that's what you're concerned with.
[Sarcasm. The one social habit that he kept in his arsenal. The bow in question was hand-made by the thief himself, and tucked carefully out of sight beneath the black cloak that hung carelessly from his back so the metal would never glint in light. A replica of the original he had made back home. It did not seem to bother him to bring attention to it even though it probably had not been noticed. A threat? The tone did not imply one. A concession then. He was not lurking around here to ... feed. It was not on his mind. Not yet.]
no subject
The thief was clearly unaffected by the dry response--or perhaps, inwardly, amused--and as for the clarifying question, Garrett simply shifted slightly and looked out at the city. Boundaries had never meant anything to him. Not even when the supernatural came out of the darkness to play.
But, he was a cautious man by nature. It had kept him alive this long, in this deadly profession he played at, so why change now. He considered the careful tone and what it meant. Maybe, even, guessed it right.]
The bow's not for hunting, if that's what you're concerned with.
[Sarcasm. The one social habit that he kept in his arsenal. The bow in question was hand-made by the thief himself, and tucked carefully out of sight beneath the black cloak that hung carelessly from his back so the metal would never glint in light. A replica of the original he had made back home. It did not seem to bother him to bring attention to it even though it probably had not been noticed. A threat? The tone did not imply one. A concession then. He was not lurking around here to ... feed. It was not on his mind. Not yet.]