10-24-2019, 09:19 AM
Her gaze roamed. She didn’t have much use for tech back home, and little taste for it here, even if she understood the necessity. Confrontation stunk up the back of the van like bristling hackles, flaring her nostrils with distaste, but she mostly ignored the posturing for it did not have the scent of escalation. Jacinda was pack, of course, but she was no pup and could certainly fight her own battles. Tenzin sat without offering out her own name, dismissed anyway with little more than a fleeting glance as the inquisitor returned his attention quickly to the meat of his invitation. He didn’t offer a name either. Perhaps, given his supposed rank, he expected her to know it.
She knew Durante had been the channeler Jacinda had fought the night she and Tenzin first crossed paths, but it had been the smallest part of their conversation. She kept her tongue tight on the subject for good reason, and in the time since it had not been revisited. The inquisitor only wanted information, and for that Tenzin had no need to chime into the talking, for she had none to give. She watched the screens instead, and the fairly ordinary house they were pointed at. It was unlikely to be where the mark was, given the limited things she knew about him; he had to have gone to ground, and that was hardly likely to be in the middle of suburbia. Some instinct stirred uncomfortably in her gut.
Her fingers drummed along her thigh, not looking away from the footage. Sometimes quarry could be drawn from the shadows with the right bait, yet watching that house she hoped it was only that he thought Durante might foolishly turn up on this doorstep.
She knew Durante had been the channeler Jacinda had fought the night she and Tenzin first crossed paths, but it had been the smallest part of their conversation. She kept her tongue tight on the subject for good reason, and in the time since it had not been revisited. The inquisitor only wanted information, and for that Tenzin had no need to chime into the talking, for she had none to give. She watched the screens instead, and the fairly ordinary house they were pointed at. It was unlikely to be where the mark was, given the limited things she knew about him; he had to have gone to ground, and that was hardly likely to be in the middle of suburbia. Some instinct stirred uncomfortably in her gut.
Her fingers drummed along her thigh, not looking away from the footage. Sometimes quarry could be drawn from the shadows with the right bait, yet watching that house she hoped it was only that he thought Durante might foolishly turn up on this doorstep.