[He picks up on Logan's cue first, his shoulders tensing— and then a moment later, the now-familiar sound of scratching, skittering legs.]
Shit.
[It's more annoyed than stressed; sometimes the things come in waves, that's something he's used to, too. His feet slide out into a wider attack stance, and his grip drops down the hilt of his weapon, leverage he needs to be ready for a low, wide swing. Sharply:]
If you can manage that trick again— [He lets go briefly enough to let his hand flex, demonstrative. Whatever the fuck that was.] Now's the time.
no subject
Shit.
[It's more annoyed than stressed; sometimes the things come in waves, that's something he's used to, too. His feet slide out into a wider attack stance, and his grip drops down the hilt of his weapon, leverage he needs to be ready for a low, wide swing. Sharply:]
If you can manage that trick again— [He lets go briefly enough to let his hand flex, demonstrative. Whatever the fuck that was.] Now's the time.