Tobias's gaze was stern, body stiff as he walked with his swaggering gait, before hark flicked with the sound of Percival's approach. Coal irises turned to him, softened slightly, but not by much, sleep wearing on them, causing a bloodshot look to the whites of his gaze, slightly darker than the usual.
Percival, he greeted quietly, in his gruff tone. The monotony of the jackal hybrid's voice was always comforting, calming. A soft sigh hissed between those ivories as he glanced elsewhere, as to avoid portraying weakness, a trait deeply ingrained into his psyche. May I speak t' ye, Percival? It's 'bout th' damned dream. Won't leave me alone. 'Aven't i suffer'd enough...?
His inquiries were quiet and hushed as he paused, lingering close to the only person he had ever truly trusted. Tobias's hands rubbed at his temples before trailing down and dangling at his sides in an exasperated manner. His sights turned back to Percival, practically pleading for some sort of comfort or guidance, much like a young child.
Tattered hark once again flicked when he heard a little shadow interruption trotting his way, a scowl pulling his lips and his body stiffening once more once little Harrow trotted on up to alert him of intruders.
Don't ye think it's rude t' interrupt? he scolded in a harsh tone, lips curled back as he looked to the girl. Y'need to let th' adults speak, foolish brat.
Attention was dragged back to the dane and his miss as he greeted the group. The captain was quick to glance at Percival, clearly wanting him close as he approached the duo and their horses, avoiding addressing the girl any further.
Wha' brings ye 'ere, trav'llers? came a stern response. His steely gaze was pinned to the man, who was clearly speaking for the two of them. ... Perhaps ye coul' be of use to me crew?
Photo courtesy of CarbonNYC
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