The things that leave a trail
[06:00:17] Crow (melchior.wardell)’s rounds through Avarra had become almost habitual by now. He moved without hurry, his attention drifting naturally across the streets, faces, doors and the small details most people passed without a second glance. He slowed near Eva’s Perfume establishment. Something was wrong. His eyes settled first on the middle doorway or what remained of it. The door had been violently destroyed, glass scattered across the shop floor and the stairs outside. Splintered wooden beams lay in the street, while inside, one of the displays had been knocked over, its wares broken across the floor. He did not immediately enter. Instead, his eyes traveled over the damage with the detached precision of someone accustomed to examining scenes after something had happened. Broken glass. Torn wood. A fallen display. He looked at the frame of the doorway, studying the direction of the damage and searching for anything that might tell him how it had happened. “That wasn’t an accident.” His gaze moved slowly across the street. No weapon was drawn. No immediate threat presented itself. But he had learned long ago that a quiet street did not necessarily mean an empty one. He stepped closer, careful not to disturb the glass, and examined the splintered beams. “Someone wanted their way through.” His eyes shifted toward the interior of the perfume establishment. “And judging by the mess…” A faint narrowing of his eyes. “…they weren’t particularly concerned with being invited.”
[06:04:58] Crow (melchior.wardell)’s attention shifted as he noticed the details that had been hidden at first glance. The shattered door was one thing. The blood was another. He crouched near the edge of the steps without touching anything, his eyes following the faint trail inward. “Blood.” His gaze moved from the entrance toward the display. Something had entered wounded. Or had been wounded after entering. The damaged food display drew his attention next. A few treats had clearly been eaten, others crushed into the surface and carpet. The large dent in the display suggested considerable force, while the long damage across the carpet caught his attention more than the scattered food. “Something came through here.” His eyes followed the trail carefully as it continued out of the Book Nook and toward the neighboring perfume establishment. Crow slowly straightened. “From the Book Nook… into the perfume shop.” He looked back toward the shattered doorway, then down at the blood once more. The destruction was not random. There was a direction to it. A trail. And he had learned that trails were rarely accidental. He stepped toward the Book Nook, deliberately avoiding the blood and debris. “Now the question is whether it was looking for the food…” His gaze settled on the blood trail. “…or whether the food simply happened to be in its way.” A faint narrowing of his eyes. “Either way, something wounded is moving through Avarra.” He glanced toward the street, quietly checking the surroundings before following the evidence any further. “And I doubt it stopped at the next shop.” his thoughts back to the tarn of the other day.
[06:12:33] Zareen Barbosa (tinylulu) cries out, her body tilting backwards until she stumbles down a few steps. Her clothes, barely miss the large paw of the beast, train flailing in the wind but catching slightly on one claw. The thin fabrics tears, not so much as a tug allowing her to regain her footing as she falls, hands hitting the ground with a thud. Her eyes fly wide, breathing increasing with growing fear, as there was nothing around to assist her. Nothing to ensure a bit of hope that she could get out of this situation uninjured. She stays on the step, hands stinging from the blow of her fall, gaze never wavering from the larl. “Stay back,” she calls out, voice shaking from both being out of breath, and the adrenaline of her predicament
[06:14:44] Crow (melchior.wardell) stopped. Ahead, the sight of the black larl immediately changed the rhythm of his rounds. He knew better than most that appearances could be deceiving. A larl could be trained, handled, even trusted by someone who knew it well, but that did not make its teeth any less capable of ending a man. His eyes moved first to the beast, studying its posture, ears, tail and breathing. Then to Zareen standing before it. Was she controlling the animal? Was it accustomed to her presence? Or was she simply standing very close to something that had not yet decided what it wanted to do? He made no sudden movement. His hand remained well away from his weapons as he stopped at a respectful distance, his body turned slightly rather than presenting himself squarely to the larl. “Easy…” The word was directed toward the animal, quiet and even. His voice was calm, firm. His eyes never left the black larl. “Slowly. Stay where you are.” he called to Zareen. He watched the animal’s head, shoulders and paws, looking for the smallest indication of whether it was preparing to advance. A trained beast might respond to its handler. An untamed one might interpret sudden movement as an invitation. “Don’t make any sudden movements. Let me determine what we are dealing with before either of us makes a mistake.”
[06:17:40] нαzєℓ ßιαςкωợợd (jasmine.vandyke): The larl wasn’t in the least bit put off by the woman telling her to stay back. She lunged forward, about to attempt another vicious swipe when the game changed. Another human was there adn she’d abort her lung, hind legs slamming into the ground as she sat back on her haunches, circling around to appraise the situation, tail swishing wildly as she paced back and forth. The fact it was only attempting to use its paws and not its teeth was a clear sign the creature was being more playful than hungry…
[06:18:03] нαzєℓ ßιαςкωợợd (jasmine.vandyke): lunge*
[06:22:44] Zareen Barbosa (tinylulu) hears a voice, somewhere from behind her perhaps, but not once does she turn to face it. She sits, back straight, eying the creature with spinning thoughts. The train that had been torn, flutters to her side, landing softly on the ground beside her. “It’s a bit late for sudden movements,” she calls out, unsure if her voice would carry the distance. There was a throb to her hands, and she was sure that the skin of her palms would be scraped. Even still, she pushes up, rising once more to her feet on shaky legs. “Back,” she commands unsteadily. In all her years, she was not familiar with the ways or training of a larl, but she was familiar with the game of survival. “Stay back,” she repeats more fiercely, her own body stepping behind her to lower on the stairs
[06:26:33] Crow (melchior.wardell) watches the larl circle, his attention following the swishing tail and shifting weight rather than the teeth. The change in posture does not escape him. His shoulders ease by a fraction, though he makes no attempt to approach. His gaze flicks briefly toward Zareen before returning to the larl. “Don’t run. Whatever you do, don’t make yourself the more interesting target.” A faint, dry smile touches his mouth. “And perhaps someone should explain to your companion that greeting people with claws is considered poor manners.” Whoever said that Assassins had no sense of humor, clearly hadn’t met Crow. His eyes remained fixed on the larl as Zareen rises. Her command earns only the slightest tilt of his head. The animal’s attention remains on her, but its posture still lacks the commitment of a true attack. “You’re right,” he says quietly. “The sudden movement has already happened.” His gaze flicks briefly to her scraped hands before returning to the beast. “Don’t back away any faster. Let it decide that following you is less interesting than whatever else has caught its attention.” He shifts one measured step sideways, placing himself where the larl can see him without blocking its view of Zareen. “Easy…” he murmurs again, voice calm and even.
“So you are two.” he stated to the animal. He had left his home with enough weapons to either end or correct the animal. But he was very much aware that he was no match if the animal would simply leap their way.
[06:29:05] нαzєℓ ßιαςкωợợd (jasmine.vandyke): The larl lilted her head, an ancient memory triggered in it from when she had been a tamed best. A soft growl came, but she backed up, her eyes still pinned on the pair. Her demeanor changed slightly, both aggression and playfulness leaving her as she stilled, no longer pacing, no longer hunting.
She was still far from the tamed beast she used to be but it was apparent that it had been some time since she’d been under the command of a human, more than half wild now. It turned, keeping half an eye on them as it went to the top of the stairs and onto the small landing there, keeping a wary eye on the pair.
[06:34:42] Zareen Barbosa (tinylulu) turns her head then, looking for a long moment over her shoulder at the man dressed solely in black. Her eyes narrow slightly, though nothing of true anger behind their depths. “I can’t be anything but interesting. My presence isn’t one that can be dimmed,” she says slightly haughtily. Her head turns, and she brings her attention back to the beast once more. It retreats, further in the direction she was once going and she releases a breath of relief. “For the best,” she says, trembling hands brushing down the front of her dress. She turns, looking to the man more fully now and crossing her arms. “And what is someone such as you doing on this day?” she asks, clearing her throat as the fear dwindles from her veins. Every so often, her gaze shifts in the direction of where the larl once stood.
[06:37:01] Crow (melchior.wardell) studies the change carefully, watching the larl’s ears, the angle of its head, and the way it withdraws rather than advancing. The soft growl earns no reaction from him. He simply remains where he is, giving the beast the distance it has chosen. “Good,” he murmurs, almost to himself. His attention shifts briefly to Zareen. His mouth twitches faintly at her words, though whether it is amusement or simple acknowledgement is difficult to tell. His gaze follows hers toward the landing for another moment before returning to her. “I had noticed,” he says dryly. “You do seem to possess a certain talent for attracting attention.” He glances down at the black covering him, then back to her. “As for what I’m doing…” He pauses, considering how much of an answer she has actually earned. “Walking. Observing. Learning the city.” His eyes briefly travel toward the damaged shops and the direction in which the larl disappeared. “Today, apparently, that includes avoiding hungry beasts and investigating why one of them has decided Avarra is its dining hall.” He looks back to her, expression calm. “And you? Aside from commanding larls and making yourself impossible to overlook?”
[06:42:07] нαzєℓ ßιαςкωợợd (jasmine.vandyke): The larl saw nothing more that interested it in the pair, starting to slowly stalk off while keeping its ears flicked back to listen for any movement of an advance towards her, the large feline having all the grace that came with being exactly that. Its tail swished as it continued on its way, giving a hard shake of its head and a loud yawn. Thankfully for the woman, she had feasted on the supplies the inn, tavern and cafe had had to offer and ancient memories in training had resurfaced. it would appear the danger had passed for now.
[06:44:22] Zareen Barbosa (tinylulu) studies him, her gaze falling upon each aspect of him silently. There is no comment made, only a quiet appraisal of the man before she finally speaks. “Do you read?” she asks, never one to assume things about anyone. Again, she glances up the stone stairs, her breath bated in preparation to run if needed. “There have been many signs around the city that speak of the beasts…..I simply never expected to run into one…..call it naive hope for the safety of my well being.” She sighs, shoulders relaxing a bit more. “What is it that you have learned of the city? Beyond perhaps that there is danger lurking within its gardened walls.”
[06:47:42] Crow (melchior.wardell) watches the larl move away, noting the relaxed tail, the yawn, and the absence of any further interest in them. Only once the beast has put sufficient distance between them does he allow himself to focus more upon Zareen. “That,” he murmurs, “went considerably better than it might have.” He considers the question for a moment, his eyes briefly following hers toward the stairs before returning to her. “Do I read?” A faint hint of amusement touches his expression. “Yes. It is generally more useful than pretending to know things.” His gaze moves across the street, taking in the buildings, the people moving through them, the signs of recent disturbances. “As for what I’ve learned…” He was weighing his words. “Not enough yet to claim I understand Avarra.” he paused there once more. “The beasts are another matter. Signs of them were visible before I encountered one. That tells me the danger isn’t entirely unexpected. What interests me is how prepared the city actually is to deal with it. Signs tell you something is wrong. They don’t tell you who is responsible for fixing it.” His gaze returns to her, quietly curious. “Isn’t it irony, that a man that murders for his profession, sees to your safety while the warriors are no where to be found?”
[06:57:42] Zareen Barbosa (tinylulu) hums, fingers extending to their fullest length, deliberately avoiding her palms that still stung. “I must be inclined to agree with you,” she says looking down at the train of her dress. “I will take torn fabrics over an injury….or worse, the loss of my life. I should have known better than to leave home without my dagger, but I was in a rush. Foolish of me,” she mutters. “Avarra is beautiful in its own right. There is much to be studied and learned…..preferably without the presence of such animals destroying the beauty of it.” In her mind, an image of the poster floods her and she shrugs a bit. “Is it not the people of the city’s responsibility to deal with it. We each have a purpose, a role in which contributes to our society. The responsibility lies not on one person or caste….Although, for someone who murders for a profession, would it not be in your line of work to handle the beasts?” she asks, a small smile touching the corners of her lips beyond her veil. “I suppose I should thank you for your assistance. I am sure your presence helped scare off the larl.”
[07:02:21] Crow (melchior.wardell) gives a quiet huff of amusement at her final remark, his gaze settling on the torn fabric before returning to her. “Scare it off?” he says, almost thoughtfully. “I would prefer not to give myself that much credit.” he glances toward the direction the larl disappeared. “It had eaten. You were no longer particularly interesting to it. I merely happened to be standing there when it decided to leave.” He looks back to her, the faintest trace of dry humor in his voice. “As for your dagger… forgetting it once is foolish. Forgetting it twice would be a lesson. But I doubt it would have done you any good. The moment you were able to stab, the animal was already way to close.” He folds his arms loosely. “And no. Killing is part of my profession. That does not mean every creature that inconveniences a city becomes my target.” His expression grows slightly more serious. “Though I will admit… I’m becoming increasingly curious about where these beasts came from.” His eyes return to her. “And curiosity has a habit of becoming work.”
[07:09:02] Zareen Barbosa (tinylulu) purses her lips. “It is a good day when the killers are preoccupied with things beyond the murder of others.” She looks him over again and raises a brow. “You aren’t working now are you?” A pause. “Actually it is best if I do not know, but for one who is wanted by the warriors, you walk without much fear. Do you think yourself immune to being thrown into prison upon capture?” Subconsciously, she reaches for the empty space at her hip. “Foolish indeed,” she repeats softly, the words being carried only barely by the wind. “I will do well to remember.”
[07:11:48] Crow (melchior.wardell) regards her for a long moment, one brow lifting slightly at the question. His expression remains almost entirely unreadable. “Immune?” A quiet breath of amusement escapes him. “No.” His gaze briefly travels over the street. “Warriors have every right to arrest me if they believe they have cause. Whether they can keep me there is a separate question.” He adjusts his stance, relaxed rather than careless. “Fear has its uses. So does knowing when it is unnecessary.” A faint smirk touches his mouth. “And at this particular moment, I’m not working. If I were…”, looking at her pointedly, “…you would probably be better off not asking.” He lets the silence sit for a heartbeat before adding dryly: “Though I suppose you already arrived at that conclusion.”
[07:17:48] Zareen Barbosa (tinylulu) nods her head in agreement. “I am sure they would love to have one such as yourself stand on trial, but I am also sure that one such as yourself does not leave behind traces that would give them cause to do so,” she says with a slight laugh. It is short but there nonetheless. “I know a great many things. I am a physician’s apprentice, we see all. Perhaps more of your own kind as well even if we do not realize it. We work in tandem with you….in a way. You make more work for us.” Her eyes narrow again and she point at him. “I do love my work, but it is never a good day when I have to do it,” she says, wincing a bit when her fingers curl onto her scraped palm.
[07:20:17] Crow (melchior.wardell)’s eyes drop to her hand as her fingers curl against the scraped palm. For a moment, the amusement fades, replaced by the practical assessment of someone accustomed to noticing injuries. “Physician’s apprentice,” he repeats, looking back to her. “That explains the questions.” A faint smirk returns. “And perhaps explains why you seem entirely too comfortable discussing what my kind does.” His gaze settles once more on her injured hand. “As for making work for Physicians…” He pauses. “I suppose that depends on the Physician.” He gestures subtly toward her palm. “You’re making work for one right now.” His expression remains perfectly dry.
[07:25:13] Zareen Barbosa (tinylulu) huffs and lowers her hand. “One can only learn if one asks questions….I do not ask that many,” she adds, the words sounding almost petulant. “It is not my fault that beasts decided to take over the city. I was between losing my life or falling down the stairs….” She gestures to the space where they stand. “I chose the latter of course. A few scraps is much more manageable, and with the right salve, it’ll be healed before the day ends.”
[07:28:40] Crow (melchior.wardell) gives her a sidelong look, the faintest hint of amusement touching his expression at the petulant defense. “Of course not. You simply ask questions until people begin to suspect you’re collecting answers.” His gaze drops briefly to her palm again as she lowers it. “And you chose correctly. Stairs are considerably less troublesome than claws.Though I wouldn’t be quite so confident about being healed before the day ends. Salve can do much. It cannot make poor decisions disappear.” Suddenly his attention is taken once again. “Best to stay low, lady.” as he starts to advance to see where the tarn was heading.
[07:31:58] Tweet (voraciousbirb) had been circling above the Scribe’s hall for a while until he advanced for the stairs. His gaze swept the area, barely noticing the humans below, he was looking for something. A few droplets of blood fell down upon the steps before he flew back towards the Scribe’s hall and crashed down where a trail of blood led into the building.
The tarn straightened himself, that massive head lowered to rearrange the cut feathers and trying to pick at them to pull them out of the claw wound on his stomach. Blood still dripped down, landing on his feet and the ground beneath him.
[07:32:28] Crow (melchior.wardell)’s attention shifts abruptly upward, his eyes catching movement against the sky. For a moment he says nothing, simply tracking the tarn as it circles above the city. His expression changes almost imperceptibly. “I know that tarn.” He watches its flight, remembering the scarred bird from the wreckage and the broken cage yesterday. His gaze follows every turn, every correction of its wings. He watches it descend toward the Scribe’s Hall, then hears the faint patter of blood striking the stone. He moves toward the stairs, his attention fixed on the trail of blood rather than the massive bird itself. He stops several paces away, giving the tarn room, his eyes narrowing as he studies the trail. “Yesterday you were hunting.” His gaze shifts briefly toward the Scribe’s Hall, then back to the tarn. “Today you’re wounded.” He crouches slightly, examining the blood on the steps without reaching toward the bird. “And you’ve come here looking for something.” A quiet pause. Crow’s expression hardens with recognition. “Whatever you’re looking for, … it seems something found you first.”
[07:37:32] Tweet (voraciousbirb) let out another screech after the human spoke, his wings spread momentarily and he’d carry that massive body over to the the first door, nudging at the broken window with his beak. He couldnt fit in there, but something must have taken his attention. The tarn was out for revenge after his failure the day prior, however that furry four legged beast hid better within the buildings and he was too large to go snoop around.
[07:41:07] Crow (melchior.wardell) watches the tarn move toward the broken window, his eyes narrowing as the pieces begin to fit together. He doesn’t approach the tarn, instead following its attention toward the building. “So that’s what you’re after.” He would approach careful and slow. Hoping the animal understood that he meant no harm due to prior experiences. He was sure the animal remembered. They always did. He studies the tarn’s wound again. “You’re trying to get inside?” he asked wondering if the animal searched the Larl he had encounted a moment ago.
[07:44:40] Tweet (voraciousbirb) began to remove the glass shards poking out from the door frame, tossing them aside until nothing was there that may injure someone who decided to walk in. Sure, the human could have just opened the door but the tarn didnt think that far, he was hunting still and he wanted someone or something to go shoo out whatever may be inside, if, it was inside.
There was no sign of threat towards the two-legger, having remembered he pose no threat to him the day before and let him eat in peace. The feathered creature also recalled the other one who accompanied him too, but he was not present. Inside the building was blood on the wall, on the curtain and more trails leading through the Scribe’s hall.
[07:48:28] Crow (melchior.wardell) watches the tarn clear the remaining shards from the frame, his expression remaining unreadable. He had expected the animal to simply force its way through. Instead, it had removed the danger from the doorway. “Considerate,” he murmurs dryly. He steps closer to the now-cleared entrance, but pauses before coming to close. His eyes move over the blood on the wall, the curtain, and the trail disappearing deeper into the Scribe’s Hall. He looks back “You want me to go in there?” He studies the tarn’s wound again, then the blood trail. “You’re bleeding badly enough that following your quarry may leave you unable to finish what you started.” It wouldn’t be a first that he tended to a injured tarn. His own loyal companion was harmed more than once.
[07:52:45] Tweet (voraciousbirb) required help, so he tried to show the need of assistance. The tarn was not wild, he had a rider before yet during a war, the man was shot off the back of the black beast and the large bird tried to save him, which ended up with him diving into the water yet all hope was too late. Men retrieved the tarn and the body, burning the remains of the corpse and the tarn was not able to be handled due to grief. They had opted to bring the bird away, to find another place where he may forget what happened, so, the beast wasnt just wild and free, there was some training still in him.
With his head lowering, that beak scratched along the stone wall and he’d sit, as if waiting for something. Those yellow eyes fixated upon the human and he made no more anymore.
[07:56:37] Crow (melchior.wardell) watches the tarn settle, the movement of its massive body oddly deliberate. His eyes remain on those yellow eyes, studying the bird rather than the blood for a moment. There was something familiar in the posture now. Not obedience exactly. Expectation. His gaze shifts briefly toward the wound before returning to the tarn. He steps closer, but slowly, giving the bird every opportunity to object. “You remembered me from yesterday. You remembered I did not threaten you.” He glances toward the blood trail disappearing into the Scribe’s Hall. “And now you’ve brought me here.” He studies the bird’s face, then the injured feathers around its stomach. “You’re trained.” The realization comes with a slight narrowing of his eyes. “Not tame. Not anymore. But trained.” “Let’s see if you can trust a Black Caste Assassin long enough to let me look at that wound.” He extends one empty hand, palm visible, but does not yet touch the tarn.
[08:02:47] Tweet (voraciousbirb) ‘s head tilted a bit as the extended hand was offered, palm visible yet nothing in hand. He’d lower his head with that same tilt, casting his gaze up onto that hand and let it travel back to his face. The tarn didnt snap at him, he didnt even puff himself up, remaining there rather calmly even though he was hunting something and believed it could still be inside.
Any sound from within the Scribe’s Hall would have been noticed should something stir and move around, but it was completely silent.
His large feet shifted a bit, pushing themselves over the stone ground with the claws leaving faint marks, but he only did so to not rest the wound on his feet. He was hurt, it still phased him in a way.
[08:06:33] Crow (melchior.wardell) studies the tarn in silence, watching the small adjustments of its feet and the way it keeps the wounded side from resting. The bird is clearly hurting, but it remains calm. That matters more than the blood. He slowly lowers his extended hand, keeping it within sight rather than forcing the contact. “You’re hurting.” His eyes move over the wound again, assessing without touching. “And you’re trying very hard not to show it.” He glances toward the silent Scribe’s Hall, then back to the Tarn. Nothing stirs within. Whatever the tarn had been hunting was either gone or was very good at remaining still. “You brought me here because you need help with that wound.” he paused”And because you want me to look for whatever is hiding inside.” He takes one careful step closer, stopping well short of the bird. “Two problems. One solution.” His gaze remains fixed on the tarn. “Let me see the wound first. Then I’ll see what your quarry has left behind.” His voice was calm and his demeanor showed no fear, but simple understanding of what the animal could do. There was a natural kind of authority to him. One that had been taught from an early age. As a tarnsman he knew that his calmness was essential.
[08:11:49] Tweet (voraciousbirb) turned his head towards the broken door, as if watching it while the human got closer. He still showed no sign of threat but he did stand up again. Knowing how low he sat, the two legger would have to nearly crawl underneath him and if something dangerous was out there, the human would be in great danger since he’d have to come out from underneath and get up.
The wound on his belly bore deep claw marks of a larl, the tarn had ripped some feathers out to get to the wound that hurt him yet he couldnt heal himself, still, everything around it bothered him. Luckily, he had evaded alot of the attacks, so it was only one injury, but one was enough.
[08:15:01] Crow (melchior.wardell) watches as the tarn rises, immediately understanding the problem. Getting underneath the enormous bird would put him in a poor position, especially with whatever had wounded it potentially still somewhere inside the Hall. His eyes settle on the deep claw marks across the belly.”Larl.” The word is quiet, but certain. He studies the wound without reaching for it. The missing feathers tell him the animal has already tried to deal with the irritation itself. “You’ve done what you can. Pulling at the feathers may have made it worse.” His gaze shifts toward the broken doorway, then into the silent darkness beyond it. He doesn’t step underneath the tarn. Instead, he circles slightly, keeping both the bird and the entrance within his sight. “You’re right not to trust that doorway. Whatever hurt you may still be inside. And I’m not going to crawl beneath a wounded tarn just to find out. Come outside with me. Let me see the wound where I can actually reach it.” His tone remains calm, almost conversational. “Then we can decide whether your little hunt needs finishing.”
[08:19:30] Tweet (voraciousbirb) didnt quite understand what the human wanted, but when he stepped away, it irritated the bird to the point he’d call out, almost like he was complaining. One last gaze went through the broken door and he’d walk down the three steps. Unsure if the building was safe, his head turned back again to keep an eye on it.
The only reason the tarn had come here, was because he saw the trail of blood that led into the building, the blood inside was a give away for a potential attack too and considering he had met a kaiila that didnt seem to willy nilly attack people, a tiny sleen that could never do this much damage, this had to be the larl he fought against the day before.
[08:24:24] Crow (melchior.wardell) watches the tarn descend the steps, and the complaining call earns the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Yes. I heard you.” He follows at a measured pace, keeping himself to the side rather than directly in front of the tarn. His eyes move from the blood trail inside the Scribe’s Hall to the wound on its belly. “The blood brought you here.” He studies the marks on the stone and the torn feathers. “I think I met your ‘friend’ earlier.” he states as he glances back to where the tarn wanted to go. “I bet you on all your and my feathers it is a sleep. But let us not detain. We do not know how long it sleeps after it has toyed with womens dresses.” He now closed the distance as he moved with confidence. “You have shown me the wound. Now let me work without having to put my head underneath you.” His tone remains calm, almost dry. “After that, I’ll follow your trail inside.”
[08:30:27] Tweet (voraciousbirb) didnt take his eyes off of the building and the items inside. He was looking for movement, anything that may give away his enemy within the stone walls. The tarn remained unmoving, merely the faint breeze brushing through his feather coat. As the human moved, his head snapped forward briefly, watching him come closer and scanned the area for any other who may walk up, but no one was there. He turned his head again to observe the hall. Hunger caught him suddenly and the bird spread his wings, gazing back to the human again to nudge against the rim of his shield, as if telling him he would be back again before flying off.
Crows Murder 
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