[The expression he wears as she calls out him is a cold one, slightly distant - but all is hidden behind his own mask, now scratched and darkened with mud and the blood of spirits who tried to pick a fight the first time he tried to pull away. They lost, but the smell of blood and the rush of violence drew him back anyway.
Now he's caught in a state between panic, of wanting to escape and never finding a moment to do so; and being swept along with the euphoric tide of celebration when it overcomes him. He tenses, and quickly comes up with an excuse.]
Saw someone run off that way earlier. I'm going out to drag them back.
[His voice comes low and gravelly - rough from yelling and singing along without stopping for water. He needs to get away, to fix this, and as he takes another step back he pleads inside his head that she'll accept the lie and let him go.]
lost control
Now he's caught in a state between panic, of wanting to escape and never finding a moment to do so; and being swept along with the euphoric tide of celebration when it overcomes him. He tenses, and quickly comes up with an excuse.]
Saw someone run off that way earlier. I'm going out to drag them back.
[His voice comes low and gravelly - rough from yelling and singing along without stopping for water. He needs to get away, to fix this, and as he takes another step back he pleads inside his head that she'll accept the lie and let him go.]