#mid;

    The trek back from their last fight against the Risen was a tiresome one, indeed; and one that was not particularly easy, in the case of Virion. His sudden, peculiar entrance out onto the field was not one that was taken lightly. No matter how noble he professed his intentions to be, no matter how many pretty words he spoke, the eye of suspicion was cast upon him -- and by many a person, no less. The fact was overwhelming, of course, but it did not stop the noble from holding his head high, and walking the grounds as he would in any other situation.

    The guise of a smile had always been his "favorite", after all.

    It was no different this afternoon. The Shepherds had finally set up camp, and with such sparing amounts of love to be had for him in that moment, the archer set off to train. Quiver slung over one shoulder, bow gripped in his dominant hand, Virion made his way from the camp to the nearby field designated for training and the likes. And he would have made it there uninterrupted, had the (female) tactician not come into his sights.

    He'd held virtually no conversations with the woman, and had only heard talk of her strategial prowess in passing. Suffice it to say he was curious, which in turn --

    "ᴍʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ lady, forgive my interruption --"

    A city whose streets were foreign to the noble that now meandered about them, making it plain that he was out of his element. Gaining his bearings -- or rather, the attempt to do so -- had been a fruitless endeavor, and he'd given up about as soon as he'd attempted such. The streets were devoid of life, save for himself; the only sounds to be heard was the whistling of the wind, and that of his own footsteps. Whatever the cause for such a lack of bustle and overall animation, it must have been quite serious --

    At least, for most. For as soon as the thought of how pointless wandering aimlessly had proven to be thus far crosses his mind, Virion spots, in the distance, a figure. Lithe in form and heading his way, by the grace of the Gods. It was sure to be a woman; no, he was sure it was a woman.

    A fact that would further help his case, as far as he would concerned. The Gods smiled upon him in that moment, for certain.

    "ᴍɪʟᴀᴅʏ --" An arm raises from his side once close enough, a gesture meant to ensure the fact that he meant her no harm, and to draw her nearer. Just harmless questioning.