River doesn't move, except the slight narrowing of her eyes. Not when Gabriel finishes his sentence, and not when Galadan's shields slam into place.
That, itself, is notable in its way. Normally River is full of idle motion -- tiny twitches of her fingers, small shifts of weight or gaze, brief moments of distraction.
She doesn't move, and she doesn't speak, and her fists don't clench. But all the same, there's nothing childish about her in that moment.
It's a look Gabriel has never seen, most likely, not so bare and clear as this, but Roland Deschain would know it very well. There's a reason gunslingers were compared to hawks, years and worlds away: strip away the superficialities, the jesses of training and society, and you find the pure and lethally focused core.
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That, itself, is notable in its way. Normally River is full of idle motion -- tiny twitches of her fingers, small shifts of weight or gaze, brief moments of distraction.
She doesn't move, and she doesn't speak, and her fists don't clench. But all the same, there's nothing childish about her in that moment.
It's a look Gabriel has never seen, most likely, not so bare and clear as this, but Roland Deschain would know it very well. There's a reason gunslingers were compared to hawks, years and worlds away: strip away the superficialities, the jesses of training and society, and you find the pure and lethally focused core.