Who she's trying to find — what answer she's anticipating — even Billie doesn't know anymore. She still sees who he used to be, at times, plotting his next move, hunting down leads. That he's after answers and not a mark, the only difference is someone may not be dead on the floor at the end of the trail.
The rest, still a mystery. Frustrating at the worst times, confusing at the best. They've treaded over that argument once before. The only thing it had won her was a painful truth. At least the terse reply falls into what could be expected, even if it does sound like nothing more than telling off a Wolf who's been slacking. Yet even that sparks that same anger she's been holding onto, all in spite of how she thought herself too exhausted to feel anything apart from this bone-deep weariness.
She has been dead for two days.
She shouldn't even have the energy to be mad and, as such, while she can't let it go, she does ignore it.
Deirdre has less restraint over the matter. Where Billie merely looks on, expression barely changing save for a faint squinting of her eyes, the tern stands and fluffs her feathers out— or begins to, only to have her upcoming tantrum squashed by Billie dropping a hand on her and pushing her back down.
Deirdre still makes a few muffled, offended noises, but that's the end of it.
"You're right," is all Billie says to that in the end and she turns away, attention moving on past any of them to watch the sun begin its slow creep up into the sky. "I'm sorry, sir. I won't make that mistake again."
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The rest, still a mystery. Frustrating at the worst times, confusing at the best. They've treaded over that argument once before. The only thing it had won her was a painful truth. At least the terse reply falls into what could be expected, even if it does sound like nothing more than telling off a Wolf who's been slacking. Yet even that sparks that same anger she's been holding onto, all in spite of how she thought herself too exhausted to feel anything apart from this bone-deep weariness.
She has been dead for two days.
She shouldn't even have the energy to be mad and, as such, while she can't let it go, she does ignore it.
Deirdre has less restraint over the matter. Where Billie merely looks on, expression barely changing save for a faint squinting of her eyes, the tern stands and fluffs her feathers out— or begins to, only to have her upcoming tantrum squashed by Billie dropping a hand on her and pushing her back down.
Deirdre still makes a few muffled, offended noises, but that's the end of it.
"You're right," is all Billie says to that in the end and she turns away, attention moving on past any of them to watch the sun begin its slow creep up into the sky. "I'm sorry, sir. I won't make that mistake again."