[He will have to stay very patient, very quiet, for a long enough time. Long enough to let the sounds of the footsteps and armor and horses start to mingle, distant muffled yells that can't quite be heard, the smashing in of doors, the sounds of quiet commotion on the other side of the dark room. Whispers and movements, rattling as items are moved, as the door itself jostles slightly before going rigid and still.
The boy stays tense, too tense, until the noise has stopped. Only then does he chance a look over, bright and brassy eyes the same color as his counterpart, and spots the hand instead.
He takes in a sharp breath, but has nowhere to run. So his fingers grip with a white-knuckled grasp into the blankets around his body, eyes locking up on Ahito with a tense mixture of uncertainty, fear, and curiosity in measures, though fear dominates them all.
You feel dread. Dread at being spotted. Fear at what will happen. Confusion, at the sight of the locked door. Curiosity, as though gazing at something unknown. Something not allowed.]
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The boy stays tense, too tense, until the noise has stopped. Only then does he chance a look over, bright and brassy eyes the same color as his counterpart, and spots the hand instead.
He takes in a sharp breath, but has nowhere to run. So his fingers grip with a white-knuckled grasp into the blankets around his body, eyes locking up on Ahito with a tense mixture of uncertainty, fear, and curiosity in measures, though fear dominates them all.
You feel dread. Dread at being spotted. Fear at what will happen. Confusion, at the sight of the locked door. Curiosity, as though gazing at something unknown. Something not allowed.]