Watching

She waited, watching him for a long time. But he said nothing, did little. With a fairly empty, slightly bored, expression he slowly shifted through one page and then another of the heavy volumes that the men had set out before him. If she could have left she would have done so, but the man was terrifying in his own right. Even as he sat there doing very little at all. She had ducked away from a striking blow from one of the other men earlier but the hand was stopped far from impact. Emmerita had balked at the stranger as he tossed her attacker across the room with such ease. This man ended a squabbled amongst gangsters in a manner a seconds. He was so feared that the moment the man who had been hurled lurched back up, a single and silent threat made the others retreat with haste. Most men would chose to try and defend themselves if someone flashed a knife, but this man merely placed his hand on the hilt and it was enough to make murderers flee from him. Wolf they called him. A man named Wolf. As she contemplated the meaning of his name, she caught him staring back at her.