Re: antique store: louis/claire
Claire wasn't a master of interaction, but she knew when she was being asked to leave, even when those words didn't exactly come out of his mouth. However, she was pleased when he pulled his finger away, glad he didn't hurt himself. It didn't necessarily mean he had been spared by the grace of God (which was often how she took small signs like that), and it could have been something inside that was repelled by the blade itself. He seemed so kind, so gentle. She rather hoped it wasn't the latter of her worries.
"Thank you," she said softly, her hands gripping the spear tight and she pulled it to her once more. "I will come back," Claire added, though she wasn't certain that was at all comforting to the man. That timeless weight of the universe pressed into the back of her mind, an intruder that did not obey the laws of nature, and she was scared by what that could possibly mean. For now all she understood was that she needed to leave.
The girl hustled out of the store quickly, confused, concerned, and complete for the first time in years. This was her sign. There was a battle to be fought, and she had to be there. Claire paused outside the store window for a moment, casting a glance back at the owner of the store to make mental note of him and her worry of what the flash in his eyes could have been from, and then she set her course back down Main Street.
She had to get back to Rome. Temperance needed to go home.