it's a shallow little world
There was no excuse - not the darkness, not the exhaustion that made both body and mind feel haggard and drawn - for him not to have noticed that the girl had a sword. Especially after finding the hunter, he should have been particularly attuned to such things.
But it wasn't until she spoke that his attention flicked back to her, his gaze at first dismissive before a gleam of street lamp caught the hilt rising from her back. Kearn managed to keep his eyebrows from rising to his hairline, but internally he was swearing. Thoroughly. Surely even in Sacrosanct, crawling with beasts and monsters, it wasn't common to wear a weapon so brazenly? Perhaps things were changing, and non-humans were growing weary with keeping to the shadows.
On the heels of that thought, he wondered if the bus driver would allow her on. He had the good sense, at least, to keep his own weapon tucked covertly in his pocket.
All this passed through his mind with hardly a tic of his cheek to betray it before he jerked his chin northward, where the bus in question was nothing more than blurred taillights. "You might catch it if you feel like sprinting. Otherwise it's a bit of a wait." Kearn's gaze wandered down her briefly, wondering just what manner of girl she was, and what kind of threat she might pose to him. His arms were still crossed, his posture closed off, but he was feeling sulky and cross enough to engage where he probably shouldn't. He tilted his head toward the weapon she brazenly wore. "You weren't planning on taking it hostage with that, were you? I'll take another route home, if so."