"Follow...ing." Javert's zombie face seems fixed into a perpetual scowl. He's content to follow R, but R seems to want to be getting somewhere, and it's somewhere deep in Javert's nature to investigate. He sees a dark hedge and he suspects that something might be going on there that he should be putting a stop to. He's not sure what sort of wrongdoing he'd be putting a stop to, but it'd be someone doing something. Something wrong. Yes.
He stops too and sniffs. He isn't as experienced as R is, but he feels instinctively how they should approach. He has no way of knowing that it's because of his police training in his life as the living, of pursuing hunted men and of approaching dens of villainy. He reaches a hand up to his mouth as if to shush R.
Smells like food. Smells like a Living human. Something in him feels somewhat sick at the idea of murdering a person and feasting on their flesh, but that feeling is easily overcome by the much greater hunger, that much, much greater hunger.
no subject
He stops too and sniffs. He isn't as experienced as R is, but he feels instinctively how they should approach. He has no way of knowing that it's because of his police training in his life as the living, of pursuing hunted men and of approaching dens of villainy. He reaches a hand up to his mouth as if to shush R.
Smells like food. Smells like a Living human. Something in him feels somewhat sick at the idea of murdering a person and feasting on their flesh, but that feeling is easily overcome by the much greater hunger, that much, much greater hunger.
A finger snaps.
Javert points.