"Fear makes you sloppy. Whatever he's feeling, it isn't fear."
***
Isolde's amber eyes locked onto the slight figure who tripped and stumbled through the tunnel. Flinched at every sound. His face a mask of terror.
He moved like a man being led to his own execution. Each step reluctant. Each shadow a potential threat. His teammates barely looked at him. Too focused on their own survival to spare much attention for the weakest link.
Yet something about his movements struck a discordant note in her mind.
Like a familiar tune played in the wrong key. Like a chord that shouldn't exist, but somehow did.
"Interesting," she murmured. Tipped her flask back for another swallow. The burn didn't even register anymore. "Very interesting indeed."
