[ he runs a hand through his hair, then over his face. ]
It's someone's. Some... thing or someone. I can't tell. [ and his tone makes it obvious how frustrating he find that. ] But I sense-- something.
[ anakin gives him a look, slipping down off the stool he was perched on. he's not quite as tall as his suited-self, the sith armor adding a foot or so of height he didn't originally have, but he still towers over a good portion of the human population. ]
Not that it matters to you. The Force isn't your thing, after all. [ and it seemed to be stronger up close and personal than whatever he was feeling from a distance from whatever that was, and what he felt rippling off phanan wasn't exactly pleasant and rather obviously directed at him.
he doesn't know what he did, and he's pretty sure he doesn't want to. ]