[Hendrik doesn't fall in line. Not immediately. He doesn't look at Jasper as he passes, the glare still evident in his eyes as he focuses on the ground.
Six, seven, eight feet of distance grow between them before Hendrik turns to follow, busying himself with adjusting his pack before settling into a silent march. The disgust is slow to fade, but the urge to voice himself no longer fights for his attention.
He knows his anger is out of line. Better to bite his tongue next time than let more foolishness play out.]
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Six, seven, eight feet of distance grow between them before Hendrik turns to follow, busying himself with adjusting his pack before settling into a silent march. The disgust is slow to fade, but the urge to voice himself no longer fights for his attention.
He knows his anger is out of line. Better to bite his tongue next time than let more foolishness play out.]