[ The giant of a man is still. Silent. There's no twitch to his free hand: he's not thinking of curling it into a fist. There's no shift of weight in preparation to either slug North or pull him into a chokehold. Maine's inaction speaks volumes. He's listening. He's not convinced, but he's intrigued.
[ Finally, there's a slight inclination of his helmet. Go on. ]
no subject
[ Finally, there's a slight inclination of his helmet. Go on. ]