Alissa Ming
Wandering Storyteller
Faith didn't look in their direction. She was an archangel, and it wouldn't be the first time she'd seen bodies. And she knew her lack of response could give her away, so she looked away, only looking around when the alien came back. She heard him call out to Carl. But he didn't call him Carl. She couldn't be certain given the alien's, Clark's, obvious inability to speak fluent English, but she was positive he'd called Carl Holt. She registered it for later use.
Faith saw Carl's look as she followed the others to safety. She was certain he suspected her of being more than she claimed. Well, if it came to it, she could always say she was police from America or something. After all, one could be good with what to do in a fight while still being a tourist. "I'm fine. It just hurts a lot." Faith answered Carl's question. "Quite a bit more than it did. I'm assuming the adrenaline had something to do with that." She wasn't sure if either Carl or Anne would buy it, though she made sure to banish any of the cold calculation out of her eyes. She didn't bring her smile back, except as a wan thing that mocked her own stupidity. Back home, this wound would truly have been nothing. Here, chances were she'd have a scar, but she could probably get that fixed when she returned home.
Faith spent quite a bit of the ride figuring out how she could unobtrusively get in contact with headquarters for a translator, among a few other things. She wasn't sure it would be possible until the others had gone to sleep. Maybe she should get one for Clark as well, but she wasn't even positive beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was an alien. She made herself focus again, keeping herself as watchful as she could, without being obvious about it.
Faith saw Carl's look as she followed the others to safety. She was certain he suspected her of being more than she claimed. Well, if it came to it, she could always say she was police from America or something. After all, one could be good with what to do in a fight while still being a tourist. "I'm fine. It just hurts a lot." Faith answered Carl's question. "Quite a bit more than it did. I'm assuming the adrenaline had something to do with that." She wasn't sure if either Carl or Anne would buy it, though she made sure to banish any of the cold calculation out of her eyes. She didn't bring her smile back, except as a wan thing that mocked her own stupidity. Back home, this wound would truly have been nothing. Here, chances were she'd have a scar, but she could probably get that fixed when she returned home.
Faith spent quite a bit of the ride figuring out how she could unobtrusively get in contact with headquarters for a translator, among a few other things. She wasn't sure it would be possible until the others had gone to sleep. Maybe she should get one for Clark as well, but she wasn't even positive beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was an alien. She made herself focus again, keeping herself as watchful as she could, without being obvious about it.