The thing with wolves - and, Jo suspected, other weres too to some extent - was that they felt everything in many more ways than your typical human. They felt them more strongly, too. When someone, anyone, was rattled, they knew it. They smelled it on someone's scent, they could hear it in a heartbeat, sometimes they even felt it in the way energy flowed through someone, somehow. They weren't experts at reading people unless they tried to be, but they had a natural advantage at it, and Jo was no different. Even before Sam looked back at her, making eye contact with eyes that were even more rattled than usual, she had known it was not nothing.
Looking again in the direction Sam had been looking to, Jo frowned. She couldn't see anything, but perhaps she was not using her senses properly. "What?" She asked again, concern in her voice. A sigh of mild frustration escaped her when Sam dismissed himself. "It's not nothing; you're rattled, I can tell. And you can tell me what's bothering you." She almost put a hand on his shoulder, a gesture that to most people would convey support. But Jo knew better by now, and so she refrained, hands remaining on her notebook and pen. "It's okay." She offered.