[She falters only a little at sound of the glass shattering, and even more so by that possessed look in his eyes, and she's about to come back with another retort, another attempt at a threat, but she's thrown off when smoke starts to drift out from his closed claw.
She shouldn't dare hope that the shift in his expression could mean anything, but... she does, her sword arm growing slack, her fist loosening.]
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She shouldn't dare hope that the shift in his expression could mean anything, but... she does, her sword arm growing slack, her fist loosening.]
... Eustace?