When he registers her running close—moves like a warrior, too subtle to be comfortable with, and no warning from voodoo— he tenses, in preparation to leap at her and tear at her with his claws. Who knew what good it would do, but she was unarmed, and if claws and strength failed, he always had fangs. And the poison in his veins thanks to the motherfucking capitol.

He lets a growl sound, loud in warning. It’s only until he really sees her face that he thinks maybe she has no intent to attack. He really ought to kill her. He could trip her in run and snap her neck before she had the chance to react. No. She was too aware of him right now, he was too open, and unlike him, she hadn’t been poisoned. And he still had to find the Helmsman, the motherfucker couldn’t fight off his own stylist who knew if he could fight anyone here, never even fucking mind the Blue one Jay, who he had no idea of in regards to his skill in fighting. It would have to wait. Fuck the capitol.

Finally, her surprise and his own frustration combine to have him snap, “SOMETIMES A MOTHERFUCKER HAS TO DO AT SHIT DIFFERENT! Half are dead already anyway!”

He gives her a look of his own, that's very much a 'what about you?'