Overture Downs can't stand it

briggs said nothing.
his gaze lingered, steady, unflinching, the weight of it heavier than words. he did not tilt his head this time, did not give her the satisfaction of mirrored curiosity. he only watched. assessed.
the silence stretched, thick as morning fog, settling between them like something neither had the inclination to move. his ears flicked once—barely a movement—acknowledging her words but offering nothing in return.
there is nothing here. it seems. barren.
his jaw tightened, a slow breath leaving him through his nose. if she was looking for something, she’d either find it or she wouldn’t. it wasn’t his concern.
but she was still here. still watching. still talking.
nothin'. he grumbled. why're you still here?