[ She gets straight to it, almost businesslike, and Carver stares at her for a good ten seconds before he remembers he ought to be doing the same. Or maybe helping her with the buttons.
He doesn't. He stays where he is, back firmly to the wall, and shakes himself. After a moment, he pulls his hood off. And then his jacket. He's sweating, still. Heart rate elevated, pulse pounding in his throat like a drumbeat.
It's not pleasant.
After a moment, he sets his jacket and hood down. Follows it up with the mask hooked to his belt.
The belt he keeps, though, because his knife's sheathed there and he knows better than to let himself lose track of a weapon - even in a moment like this. Maybe especially in a moment like his.
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He doesn't. He stays where he is, back firmly to the wall, and shakes himself. After a moment, he pulls his hood off. And then his jacket. He's sweating, still. Heart rate elevated, pulse pounding in his throat like a drumbeat.
It's not pleasant.
After a moment, he sets his jacket and hood down. Follows it up with the mask hooked to his belt.
The belt he keeps, though, because his knife's sheathed there and he knows better than to let himself lose track of a weapon - even in a moment like this. Maybe especially in a moment like his.
He watches Ducky all the while. Taking her in. ]