[ He shuts his eyes again, trying to remember, and past the calm mask of memory, the fingers of both hands twitch with discomfort or misplaced aggression. The man who tried to gut him. The guy who happened after that. A woman he instinctively tore away from one of the younger, strange werewolves, though he didn't help much more than that — maybe he hadn't had to, maybe someone else had?
His breathing has stayed even because it's been a few seconds at most and why wouldn't it, he's good when he has to be, he's got so much more control than Derek —
Another little twitch, smoothed over as he opens his eyes and comes up with a tentative answer for Chris. ]
Six?
[ Restless, as if to physically shake off the events of last night, Peter moves away from the weapons rack, giving a closer examination to things on the shelf near the other man. That broken wooden board, his fingers tracing the crack roughly down the center, and the deeply carved lines where maybe, one could push something small. ]
I can't be sure.
[ He admits with the reluctance of ego, and pushes the shelf holding the board back into place. Then there's exactly one second where who even knows if Chris is looking in the right direction to catch the acute chagrin on Peter's face at the weird, hollow click! following his action. After that, he'll probably mainly be focused on Peter bodychecking him into a wall, out of the path of even more fucking arrows. The older Peter has a problem. Well, more than one problem. Ironic arrow traps is just, you know, a hitherto undiscovered one. A man gets his vault robbed one time, he probably gets a bit sensitive about it. ]
no subject
His breathing has stayed even because it's been a few seconds at most and why wouldn't it, he's good when he has to be, he's got so much more control than Derek —
Another little twitch, smoothed over as he opens his eyes and comes up with a tentative answer for Chris. ]
Six?
[ Restless, as if to physically shake off the events of last night, Peter moves away from the weapons rack, giving a closer examination to things on the shelf near the other man. That broken wooden board, his fingers tracing the crack roughly down the center, and the deeply carved lines where maybe, one could push something small. ]
I can't be sure.
[ He admits with the reluctance of ego, and pushes the shelf holding the board back into place. Then there's exactly one second where who even knows if Chris is looking in the right direction to catch the acute chagrin on Peter's face at the weird, hollow click! following his action. After that, he'll probably mainly be focused on Peter bodychecking him into a wall, out of the path of even more fucking arrows. The older Peter has a problem. Well, more than one problem. Ironic arrow traps is just, you know, a hitherto undiscovered one. A man gets his vault robbed one time, he probably gets a bit sensitive about it. ]
... huh.