#apostaticus

                                 he assesses the other with a critical eye, expression unremarkable ( but neither is it stony or angry ); Halla’vhenan’s hands are clasped at his waist, and he remains silent. for a heartbeat, at least. he shifts his weight to his other foot, and looks away.

‘This is Maeve and Aoife.’

[ she says, pointing to each of her cats. well,   maeve’s a cat, aoife’s still just a kitten. ]

‘Now, if they don’t like you, I wouldn’t worry. They’re                       not fond of strangers but--oh hello.’

[ looking at the man with curiosity --instead of   fear or anger-- is maeve. she gives a short   meow and myrtle nods. ]

       She's been staring at nothing for several minutes now as far as the man before her is concerned, she realizes, & is quick to tear gaze from those that linger across the border between worlds, attention to focus now solely 'pon mage donning conflicted infamy. A breath is taken, fingers to lace tightly and for a moment she regrets the curiosity that drew here this close, regrets not following behind Hisoka as dutiful shadow -- but there is naught to be done about it now.

                                                               ( Should she tell him about ----- no, he doesn't need to know. )

       ❛ Ah, you... you're Anders, right...? ❜

       Pale hair is somewhat streaked with blood, and yet she        bares her teeth in a smile as she ducks into the healer’s        refuge. Slim hands relinquish their grip upon a staff, & it         is set just out of sight. Endangering her friend would not        be wise, for while Hawke is almost untouchable, Anders         is not. 

                       ❛ I don’t suppose you’ve a little time, Anders? ❜