*tenses the second you move again—but watches as, just as quickly, his daughter splays out her arms to her sides to try and stop you from pushing in front of her*
*laughs like he means it, like he may actually be willing to take the shot and risk hitting her (does she even know whether he would?)*
Don't move, thief. Which police are those, Liltëas? (Get out of the way.) His, or mine? (You don't understand.)