@young-lord | The Xingese Prince spoke to the girl.
And Anger seemed just as wary as Ling, keeping herself as close to the opposite wall as possible. If she could get any closer she would be hugging the damn thing. Panic had caused her muscles to seize up, and she really looked like a terrified child with how her hands shook as she grabbed at the messenger bag slung over her shoulder.
Purple eyes stared back at Ling, almost transfixed, before Anger was looking away as she tried to cover up her arm, where the sleeve had torn; conveniently(though certainly not for her), right where that damned tattoo was. It also didn’t help that he had likely seen her arm heal faster than any wound like that should have.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She says, voice quiet as she pressed herself back up, further away from Ling. Damn it, was this someone that that bastard had sent after her? Did she have to leave, now, right when she had gotten used to things?
The thought terrified her, had her hands clenching into shaking fists--she needed to be ready to run, ready to throw a punch, just in case.