[She looks between AR and WV, about to say something meant to soothe them about the idea of committing murder, but the words die before they reach her tongue. Not because she doesn't believe in them, but because she's staring at WV now, at his edging.]
[PM goes completely still, reminiscent of a dog staring at a squirrel, waiting to see what its next move is. She, too, is ready to spring.]