[He'd reject the word jumpy applied anywhere near him, but the truth is the spirits are a disconcertingly foreign type of enemy when he's only ever battled humans. He's careful to stay well back until he can definitively identify Javert as a man, one of their own number. An old man.
Ageism being alive and well in his world with its appallingly low life expectancy, Javert's age, more than anything else, earns him a tick in the Not Dangerous column, relaxing him a degree or two.]
I thought you might be one of them.
[And it's probably better for all involved that he's checking--he's been alarmingly proactive with his stabbing, though he's moving slower on his leg of late.
Speaking of... he doesn't move at all while Javert addresses him, keeping his lantern held high so it only illuminates his upper body. A bloody pant leg is a bit harder to conceal than a wound beneath a coat.]
Same to you. [The old man is implied.] Why aren't you inside with the others?
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Ageism being alive and well in his world with its appallingly low life expectancy, Javert's age, more than anything else, earns him a tick in the Not Dangerous column, relaxing him a degree or two.]
I thought you might be one of them.
[And it's probably better for all involved that he's checking--he's been alarmingly proactive with his stabbing, though he's moving slower on his leg of late.
Speaking of... he doesn't move at all while Javert addresses him, keeping his lantern held high so it only illuminates his upper body. A bloody pant leg is a bit harder to conceal than a wound beneath a coat.]
Same to you. [The old man is implied.] Why aren't you inside with the others?