Stop me if you've heard this one before

the lack of a moonlit pallor to the other’s helmet is enough for them to assume that he is not one of the vessels. succinct lack of knowledge of the knight’s appearance is also noted. though he bears headware reminiscent of a bug, the other is certainly not of hallownest’s kind.

were they able to express it, the ghost would seem crestfallen. another lead lost.

however, the inquiry does not go unanswered. at least, not by way of total disregard. craning their neck, the shell in question is quirked to one side before righted and shaken. no, they are not a beetle and it is not a skull. cloak swaying with the movement of their arm, they reach upward, pointing at the other’s own helmet.

    Crow’s curiosity began to pique as he watched the little creature’s animated movements. His hands rested on his knees as he knelt down to be closer to the knight’s level.

     “Tell me, just what can those teeth of yours do besides blather?”

    “Sever a smug man’s finger,” Crow responded with a smirk.

This place looks like a war zone. Sniper Wolf doesn’t like it, far from it. It’s heavy and suspicious and there’s an inkling of fear that the world could erupt into chaos at any given moment. So, she lays low, slinks along empty streets and avoids the intersections where unrecognizable faces gather. They’re not worth the conflict. 

So, she finds a quiet place between two crumbling buildings, and settles for reading some discarded, water stained magazines. They were nothing interesting, a parenting magazine and something about a sport she’d never played. Boring.

Someone finding one of the rudimentary hiding spots is enough to set her off. 

“This isn’t a good place for you to be.” 

    A war zone indeed, and Crow’s explosions weren’t helping the chaos of the streets. Every blast he sent out only attracted more attention to himself; one monster was slayed then two more replaced it, and without the correct firepower to back him up it was only going to get worse.     As much as Crow despised it, he had to retreat.

    He darted into the seclusion of the decrepid buildings, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. Crow freed his overheating head from the confinements of his helmet, letting his messy blonde hair spill out as he leaned against the wall. It was only after the woman spoke did Crow realize her presence.

Panicking doesn’t do any good in combat; A cool head is crucial to making sure it stays where it belongs. It seems this man didn’t understand that, however.

She watched the grenade fly towards her - and plucked it out of the air. It was tossed into a group of enemies nearby just before it exploded, taking them out.

‘you need to calm down.’ she signed at him with one hand, the other finishing off the survivors from the explosion with a few well-placed thrown shivs.

    Crow watched as the Silent so easily caught and dismissed his grenade. It was such a nonchalaunt move–Crow hated it.     However, his hatred quickly dissipated as he saw something else in her. Opportunity.

Do not poke him

    “Yeah, I get that from time to time,” Crow said offhandedly.