*what started as a still moment between the two erupts into flurry of animosity toward some unseen enemy.*

woah, hey! what the hell are you talking about?!

*killua leaps off the couch and scrambles backwards, tearing the bandana off and throwing it into the stream of paper flying around him as if that might placate it. his claws unsheathe on instinct, but without a target in sight, they tense at his sides, ready to strike if provoked.*

who's there?