[ It speaks, perhaps, how distracted he is if someone can hear him pacing. Normally, he's able to sneak around. He's not used to someone acknowledging him before he's reached his destination. Winter stops dead, looking toward the kitchen. Nothing odd going on, not really, though the hyper-vigilance spikes, fingers itching to wrap around the hilt of the knife in his boot. Only a precaution- not to use on the crew.
He moves to the doorway, keeping an eye on Eric, though he's focused on listening down the hall. For what, who the fuck knows. ]
Action | Heron
He moves to the doorway, keeping an eye on Eric, though he's focused on listening down the hall. For what, who the fuck knows. ]
Nothing specific.