[It isn't the timbre of his voice so much as the association -- that cocksure grin, their first encounter with endless questions lobbed his way -- that categorizes it as a potential annoyance in his head. No getting around first impressions.
Not that this impression isn't much better, but at least even a drunken Charle had the sense to remain in one spot while Vincent roamed the woods like a dark spectre looking for him. Vincent lingers on his branch, gazing down at the man with the tattered edges of his cloak swaying in the breeze. One moment, he's there-- the next, the sound of leaves shivering, and the cat-like landing of boots pressed aginst the grass, too quiet.]
I didn't.
[Sneak up on him, he means. This is just how he rolls.]
no subject
Not that this impression isn't much better, but at least even a drunken Charle had the sense to remain in one spot while Vincent roamed the woods like a dark spectre looking for him. Vincent lingers on his branch, gazing down at the man with the tattered edges of his cloak swaying in the breeze. One moment, he's there-- the next, the sound of leaves shivering, and the cat-like landing of boots pressed aginst the grass, too quiet.]
I didn't.
[Sneak up on him, he means. This is just how he rolls.]
How much did you have to drink?