#..from quill to parchment.. (threads)

Ilethar stumbles a few steps backwards, cursing under his breath in Darnassian, as the strange creature sticks its ugly head out of the water. He holds out a hand, ready to cast a protective barrier between himself and whatever this was - he didn't get a good enough look but he's sure he has never encountered anything like it before. Eventually, as the thing remains unmoving in the river, he regains his bearings enough to speak.

The kaldorei’s mouth was left agape mid-sentence at her interruption. Ilethar should have taken her... he might have called it resistance to well-meant advice... into account. And yet here he was, blinking at her for several seconds before he regained his bearings and let his hands fall to his sides.

Losing his defensive stance to match her less aggressive posture Ilethar huffed at her statement.

“An honourable move in times such as this, though I dare doubt that the guards would miss anybody traipsing around with ulterior motives.”

He let her next comment slide - it may have rubbed him the wrong way but, as she seemed to pose no threat after all, what good would it do to point it out?

The kaldorei gave a small sound of surprise. It was out of the ordinary to encounter another person in this particular part of Dalaran at such an ungodly hour. He himself had merely been passing by, a small detour on the way back to his quarters…

Ilethar turned, following the sound of the voice that addressed him. His eyes came to rest on a short human woman, staring up at him with curiousity in her fuchsia gaze. Frowning he took in her frilly attire, which seemed rather out of this world. What a disrespectful way to ask, he thought sourly - she could at least have worded it more politely.