#violinysm

"H-huh?" Tracy blinks out of her thoughts at the violinist's words, only now taking notice of him being there at all. Surprise is evident in the mechanic's wide eyes and held breath while she's looking up at the taller than tall hunter, the skittish side of her almost wanting to get up and scuttle away.

However, Tracy tames her nerves by squeezing her hands into her lap. It would be rude when they're meeting outside of matches and he's actually approached her with a question!

William sees the violinist bend down as if looking for something, muttering about his violin bow.

“Your violin bow? N-no, I don’t think I have,” William says sheepishly. He sincerely wishes he had, against all odds feeling bad for the hunter desperately looking for the essential tool to play his instrument. Even if in the games the very same instrument was more harm than it was entertainment for the survivors.

The survivor bristled as he processed such a refutation, having yet another response he expressly wanted to avoid with his snapping. It was followed by a subtle squint, his gaze thorny to match his pale rose eyes.

He could not discern whether or not he was genuine. Perhaps he was simply unable to pick it apart from the many years of cruelty thrown at him. Whether or not the words were kind or barbed, of course, it did not matter. Regardless, any set of eyes laying upon it burned the moment he felt them upon his wretched skin. He cared so little for these sorts of compliments because of this, and so he could not find it within him to entertain them.