Serph blinks in obvious wide-eyed surprise, a rare unguarded moment. Two hundred years!?
His gaze flicks aside, thoughts whirling. Two hundred years... Jack had looked maybe in his thirties in his eyes, maybe Lupa's age? (But how does he know what 'in his thirties' looks like? And Lupa would have very definitely not been that old.)
He can't help but repeat, "Two hundred years," in a very small and quiet voice. That's a... long time. But more importantly, his gaze returns, sharp, "You are hunted?"
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His gaze flicks aside, thoughts whirling. Two hundred years... Jack had looked maybe in his thirties in his eyes, maybe Lupa's age? (But how does he know what 'in his thirties' looks like? And Lupa would have very definitely not been that old.)
He can't help but repeat, "Two hundred years," in a very small and quiet voice. That's a... long time. But more importantly, his gaze returns, sharp, "You are hunted?"