[Mephisto tries his best to hear whatever it is that Anne is so afraid of. All he can make out is the frantic shuffling on her part, though, the rustling of blankets and not-blankets, and a few articles falling to the floor.
Once she's settled, he stands up again. He creeps toward the door and presses his ear to it.]
no subject
Once she's settled, he stands up again. He creeps toward the door and presses his ear to it.]
Anna. Do you trust me.