The snapping seems out of place, though Will seems to remember something about it, faintly, from a time before. If he doesn't remember it well, then it probably happened when he was on something. But the moment it happens this time, the noise of the wind outside stops short, and all the background noise of the forest, noise Will barely notices, goes silent.

Hm. He's going to have to ask about that. But for now, Rosinante's somber mood and the fact that he's not even willing to make physical contact with the opal, that has Will's attention. He can tell that he's not going to get an explanation of what's in it, which, combined with everything else, makes him very wary. He hesitates a long moment before unwrapping the stone and brushing his fingertips across its surface.

And then immediately drops it.

He jumps up from his seat and starts pacing, the urge to run pulling at him even outside of the memory. It's hard for him to catch his breath, and he has to close his eyes to stop seeing bodies on the floor. He hates for anyone to see him like this, but he couldn't stop it if he wanted to. It would happen back home, sometimes, and there he could just reach for pills to calm himself down. He should've asked for those instead of the weed. It helps, but it's too slow.

When he finally stops moving, he doesn't say anything. He doesn't know what to say. That isn't what it looks like. Except it absolutely is. It was self-defense. But was it, really? I'm sorry. And he is, but he also isn't. Yes, he would've preferred if things had never gone so wrong, but stuck in the same position, given the same choice? He'd do it all again. No hesitation.

Well, he might not have gone to look this time.