"it's different. Stronger. More refined. Why would you…" he tilted his head again, his finger still tapping the earth, "have a skill akin to the boar's?"
The atmosphere darkened instantly as his words spread into the silence. The air seemed to press down again, as though shadows themselves leaned forward to listen.
His other hand, casual yet menacing, raised the dagger once more, its edge gleaming faintly as he pointed it at Riley while still tapping his finger on the floor without pause.
That steady rhythm—tap, tap, tap—was as unnerving as the cold glint of steel.
"Unless…" he paused, dragging the silence long enough to pierce, before his lips curved slightly beneath the hood. "You killed the boar. And took its skill."
Riley's eyes widened at the accusation, a flash of surprise cracking his mask of restraint.
His expression darkened almost immediately, his jaw clenching as he felt the weight of the figure's suspicion pressing down on him.
