Noctisardor Bypass noseim

It wasn't that he didn't notice the way she looked at him, it was that he couldn't translate what it might mean and didn't try to understand it. For as long as he could remember Glaukos has had eyes on him. Watched by those thinking he wasn't supposed to be there, or by those who expect things of him, or those that are afraid on the basis of his size and presence; but always there were eyes on him, and while it used to make him paranoid and uncomfortable, he had found himself caring less and less as time rolled on.

He knew he was imposing. He had once enjoyed throwing his weight around and being a pissant, and that had been tempered out of him by his time served within Mereo; but the bulk was still there and wasn't going anywhere. If it were a man looking at him in this way he would be incited to a fight, perhaps — but this was Heda. He didn't know what to make of Heda, yet, despite what they'd shared of one-another.

The man looked to the beaver he'd thrown to the dirt.

You probably don't want this then. It was a fresh kill, and would need butchering which Heda probably could not stomach right now. That was fair, given it was a giant semi-aquatic rat. He moved to grab for it again and dragged it a few lurching steps away from her and then adjusted his course for the wind, so the smell wouldn't strike at her again. The muscles of his neck and shoulders strained in pulses with each pull until he was finished.

Then he shook the tension from his body.

I'll take it to a cache. Or your -- sister, if she might want it. But he frowned, realizing in that moment what Heda had already thought: Druid was probably also very sick by now. Well, shit.