her eyes narrow the slightest bit, staring past, ahead, of the other, to the coalescing shadows; slightly deeper, darker, near formless masses stand stark within, and if she thinks on it, she can place names to the shapes โ the short bushes lined on either side of a concrete walkway, mailboxes, shapes of vehicles stood idle for the evening, used for businesses closed for the day. yet there were forces in this world, people with powers, capable of things far beyond what one might consider the norm, who were capable of... both great good, and great evil, and she sensed something. something dangerous, lurking within that, might prove a danger to her. there was an odd tickle in her palm, dancing along the surface of the bare flesh, a tad too forceful to be the night air that blew gently around the pair, cool, and usually calming to the younger, and yet unable to penetrate the warmth that seemed to gather, cold, and hot all in one โ a mounting flood; unease that pushed, and pushed against invisible confines. a strand of white had escaped from the long, dark braid cast over her right shoulder, caught up in the current of wind and carried to dance on the edge of her peripheral, a faint pale strip in the dimness that she notices, despite herself. despite everything else alarming and sending the rest of her senses into overdrive. rhaenys glances back toward june, a furrow forming in between her brows, her lips pressing together for a heartbeat's width, accompanied by a steadying inhalation of the girl's breath before she speaks, her voice low, assessing, " what is it ? " in her other hand, her lanyard, the cord wrapped around her wrist and in her palm โ her fingers curled securely around her badge, and home keys, " i don't see anything different from usual, this late. do you see something ? sense, something ? "
should she mention it, what she could do ? what good could it possibly do to say so when she could not control it ? when she didn't know the extent of it ? when she kept it hidden for a reason. when she could not be a hero, the way that others were. when the idea of it filled her with a terror that she hated โ she wanted to be brave enough, but her reticence was borne from the world defining change that take such a leap would bring about; when it became a question of identities, and keeping her own a secret. when her own became a thing that any prospective enemies she might accrue would use it to target the people that she loved most, to hurt her... she could be brave, when it was just her, and she was the only one that she needed to concern herself with, but it wasn't just her, and her little brother needed her to keep him safe. and to keep him safe in this respect, meant anonmity, meant whatever move she might make being done with his safety in mind. she did not know doctor moone, not really, and if she showed her abilities, would she keep them secret, if she asked her ? what use could she possibly be to her when she could not use them with any sort of accuracy that would possibly help if it came to a fight ? negligible at best, she thinks. and yet something continues to tug at her, pulling insistently at her insides, and slithering up between her ribs on a live wire, charging everything and nothing - brimming up to the surface, but never breeching the lip. the slow steady boil of a pot that nears spilling over, and yet, jostled, the heat dies down, and settles. she wants nothing more then for it to settle. to remain in control of herself when she needs it the most, and yet. it inches closer, and closer to the surface. she could run, if it came to it, but there were those that existed too who could run faster then the speed of sound, faster then light. her fingers clench the slightest bit tighter at the thought. raw power was not enough to stand against what could lurk within the shadows, one needed to be trained, to handle it, and she was not trained. most days she hardly acknowledged that her power existed, " what can i... is there anything that i can do ? anything at all ? are you sure about this ? what is it ? "