Epsilon's blink is slow, not so much alarmed as not completely certain of whether this situation is supposed to be alarming.
His eyes dart to Ginko, in part hoping to get a better idea from him, but it's immediately clear that Ginko is at least as uncertain as Epsilon is, if not more. He doesn't know Faust well enough. Ginko isn't sure, either.
His vine begins to pull back, a slow slithering out of Faust's grasp, his head lifted and expression cautious.
And he hates--hates--that his fears are as much for Faust's welfare as the possibility of needing to act in self defence.
Wait it's been OVER A WEEK?! I thought it was like? FIVE DAYS?
His eyes dart to Ginko, in part hoping to get a better idea from him, but it's immediately clear that Ginko is at least as uncertain as Epsilon is, if not more. He doesn't know Faust well enough. Ginko isn't sure, either.
His vine begins to pull back, a slow slithering out of Faust's grasp, his head lifted and expression cautious.
And he hates--hates--that his fears are as much for Faust's welfare as the possibility of needing to act in self defence.