Whatever tiny prickle of gratefulness Sirius had felt for Mila being so firm and caustic, whatever traction he'd felt at his own convictions and beliefs--all of it is swiftly undercut by Kate: It's in my head. It's in our heads. Her confession comes startlingly close to Mila's statement, creatures, like something had dispatched them, or at least pulled the pins on their cage doors and set them loose. Sirius, ever sensitive to his friends being cast as creatures, however coincidental the implication that isn't really an implication at all, just a thought that occurs to him, in passing--Sirius feels a chill run up his back.
But he doesn't say anything to that end. There's no point in wetting themselves. Instead, he just nods, once, as much a signal of understanding as it is an assurance. He's got Kate's knife--he takes it from her, shifting his grip on his wand to accommodate both in one hand--and should anything happen--
Well, they've got Mila and her vines, and trussing Kate up and dragging her home to undergo-- therapy. Or something. Nothing that Sirius really trusts. (Therapy, that is. Mila is all right.) So it's worth it to note that Kate has got him as well, keeping an eye on her.
"I'll check her," he says. The woman, with the two little wounds. His knowledge of killing blows is more extensive when it comes to the magical sort. "Even if she's on her way out, she might have something to say."
He moves past Kate toward the woman's prone figure, shoving her knife into his belt to free up his wand hand. As he passes Kate, he bumps his hand against hers--the one that had clutches on nothing. Not such a girl that he's going to stop and hug her, or anything, but a small gesture of bracing reassurance. It's all right, even if there's more to do.
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But he doesn't say anything to that end. There's no point in wetting themselves. Instead, he just nods, once, as much a signal of understanding as it is an assurance. He's got Kate's knife--he takes it from her, shifting his grip on his wand to accommodate both in one hand--and should anything happen--
Well, they've got Mila and her vines, and trussing Kate up and dragging her home to undergo-- therapy. Or something. Nothing that Sirius really trusts. (Therapy, that is. Mila is all right.) So it's worth it to note that Kate has got him as well, keeping an eye on her.
"I'll check her," he says. The woman, with the two little wounds. His knowledge of killing blows is more extensive when it comes to the magical sort. "Even if she's on her way out, she might have something to say."
He moves past Kate toward the woman's prone figure, shoving her knife into his belt to free up his wand hand. As he passes Kate, he bumps his hand against hers--the one that had clutches on nothing. Not such a girl that he's going to stop and hug her, or anything, but a small gesture of bracing reassurance. It's all right, even if there's more to do.