Are you okay? Am I okay?
There was a noticeable shift in the air.
"Well how the hell should I know?!" the man snarled in a transformed, darker tone, slamming his fist against the table while his head remained down. "You and I were just about to get some gods damn sleep for once, but no - you just had to start whining and crying, running away and hiding like you always do. Pull up your pants and be a man for-- wait, who?"
Lowen's gaze shot up at Arya, but it was no longer the gaze she knew. Instead, his eyes, once warm and expressive, were now pools of abyssal blackness, devoid of any emotion. An unsettling and sinister aura surrounded him, as if a different entity had taken residence within him.
Standing up, he circled around her with laser-focused eyes fixed upon her. Coming to a stop, he tilted his head, examining her with an insane glint in his eyes. A curious smile played on his lips as he lifted his hand slowly, pointing at her and bobbing it back and forth in an attempt to decipher her.
"Well lookie lookie, who the hell do we have here?" he began in a demanding tone.
"Oh, I got you. I know you," the man said with a sinister grin. "You're that wannabe bounty hunter! Been taken care of ol' Lowen in my absence, han't ya? Bet'cha weren't expectin' me."
The mysterious side of Lowen eased up, his smile growing more malevolent, emitting a soft, amused chuckle. "Arya, right? Well, I do have to apologize, missy. I hear the voices but I can't see the faces until it's up close and personal. Ol' Lowen.. you know, La.. La.. Lowen," he mocked, "likes to keep the world all to himself most times. A real piece of shit if I do say so myself."
Everything about this person was different from Lowen – more confident, sharper, eyes brimming with rage that never broke contact. Even his accent had a rustic, unsettling quality. The calm and bashfulness of Lowen's voice had morphed into someone raised on the harsh outskirts of civility.
His grin softened into a malignant state as he awaited her response, a disturbing air lingering.