She frowns at the rattle of metal on metal. It's not like him - not in this context, not on a mission - and that's more than enough to worry her. It's easy to see it on her face, brow knit, the line of her mouth drawn downward in a slight frown that has nothing to do with monsters or the reek of damp flesh.

She meets his gaze steadily.

"What's wrong?" she asks. "What am I not seeing?"