[Fenris' fingers smooth over the silverware in his hand — or on the table, rather, but his hand is placed just overtop the knife as if ready to grab it at a moment's notice. Not that he thinks he'll have to, but it gives him some comfort, and seeing as how his sword was taken from him and his markings don't seem to be working, it's about the only comfort he has in the form of self defense, weapon-wise at least.
Lost in thought as he is, he's far too aware of his surroundings to be taken off guard, though he avoided shifting his attention to the young girl because she kept her distance, so he had no quarrel with her. Now that she's addressing him, however, his gaze slowly shifts to her, brows furrowing as his toes bend against the floor in preparation for jumping to his feet and moving quickly.]
Anywhere but here.
[His response is measured, suspicious, purposefully vague but straightforward enough that it answers the question.]
no subject
Lost in thought as he is, he's far too aware of his surroundings to be taken off guard, though he avoided shifting his attention to the young girl because she kept her distance, so he had no quarrel with her. Now that she's addressing him, however, his gaze slowly shifts to her, brows furrowing as his toes bend against the floor in preparation for jumping to his feet and moving quickly.]
Anywhere but here.
[His response is measured, suspicious, purposefully vague but straightforward enough that it answers the question.]