Dias never looked away from a potential threat, once he was confronted with one; a distraction could mean the difference between spotting an attack before it was initiated and having a blade in one's stomach. However, apparently the boy (and it was strange, that both the threats he was facing tonight were children) did not follow this philosophy, as he looked away and, indeed, seemed to almost forget that they were there.

"Move," he growled under his breath, his cautious advance turning into a long stride that ate up the remaining distance between himself and the door to the cafeteria like wildfire.