[Probably not. A ‘probably not’ and the frown crawling across his features deepen, eyes still dancing around the man’s injuries, lit by lazy lantern light and framed by paint canisters having rolled loose and free on the ground.
It’s the opposite of a satisfying response, decidedly not what Alucard wants to hear. But the stranger’s hand was forced, and he understands that. He understands that, and yet—
And yet he’s up, looking down at the barely-alive body one more time, and hopes that a healer might find him before it’s too late. A second later and he’s fleet-footed and at Hei’s side, and his remark is obliquely pointed.]
Did he order you to hit him more than once?
[And leave him in that state. Alucard’s tread down the alleyway is quiet, though the words are a wheedling reverberation.
no subject
It’s the opposite of a satisfying response, decidedly not what Alucard wants to hear. But the stranger’s hand was forced, and he understands that. He understands that, and yet—
And yet he’s up, looking down at the barely-alive body one more time, and hopes that a healer might find him before it’s too late. A second later and he’s fleet-footed and at Hei’s side, and his remark is obliquely pointed.]
Did he order you to hit him more than once?
[And leave him in that state. Alucard’s tread down the alleyway is quiet, though the words are a wheedling reverberation.
Disappointment, disapproval.]