[The silence stretches on for just a moment more, as if he truly has just up and disappeared...
- But without warning, rather than climbing the ladder? He simply leaps up out of the hatch, landing on a knee with those claws of his piercing the stone floor of the shed like it's butter.]
You really think you can get away? From me?
[The reason why he took so long is clear just looking at him - his cloak's been left behind, but he's also taken the time to shuck his shirt and belt both, leaving him in just those jeans and cowboy boots of his... and that helmet, of course, grinning down at her as he moves to stand and stalk his way toward her again.]
Up on the bench! We gonna need to getcha all kinds of tied up, if ya really gonna try runnin' so easy!
[... He does have a tool rack on the wall behind the bench, too; the kind with prongs jutting forward, intended to be places to hang things like hammers or pliers. The perfect sort of metal prongs for tying things onto, perhaps?]
"is he gone" as if he's just evaporated into thin air
- But without warning, rather than climbing the ladder? He simply leaps up out of the hatch, landing on a knee with those claws of his piercing the stone floor of the shed like it's butter.]
You really think you can get away? From me?
[The reason why he took so long is clear just looking at him - his cloak's been left behind, but he's also taken the time to shuck his shirt and belt both, leaving him in just those jeans and cowboy boots of his... and that helmet, of course, grinning down at her as he moves to stand and stalk his way toward her again.]
Up on the bench! We gonna need to getcha all kinds of tied up, if ya really gonna try runnin' so easy!
[... He does have a tool rack on the wall behind the bench, too; the kind with prongs jutting forward, intended to be places to hang things like hammers or pliers.
The perfect sort of metal prongs for tying things onto, perhaps?]