[ She raises her eyebrows only slightly, a vague expression of amusement that mostly looks pleasant and patient in her round face; her father's face, missing the stark angles of the other Morrisons. There is something sweetly untoward about this visitor, it makes the witch inside of her twist eagerly. The witch would pull him apart and read his secrets on his bones, but she cannot afford to be unsubtle in this house. Not without better understanding, good then that she is a quick study. ]
I'm sure I will see you tomorrow.
[ It is not a promise for his survival, she makes no such promises on this land these days. But not a threat either. ]
[ With a deep inclination of his head, not without self-consciousness as to the archaic quality of the gesture, Brandon withdraws from the kitchen politely. His presence, especially in comparison the rest of the House and its usual occupants, doesn't carry much weight or darkness with it. No strong scent of anything. He came to the House unarmed and vulnerable, carrying only gifts and tools. That was the proper way to greet Haran and, he is now sure, Qetzi'ah.
But to meet the hyenas, and perhaps also Tavor, as she hinted, that must change. So he has the rest of the hours of the night to construct what he needs to best survive the coming morning. ]
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I'm sure I will see you tomorrow.
[ It is not a promise for his survival, she makes no such promises on this land these days. But not a threat either. ]
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But to meet the hyenas, and perhaps also Tavor, as she hinted, that must change. So he has the rest of the hours of the night to construct what he needs to best survive the coming morning. ]