Amphoreus breathes gold in the late afternoon. Warm wind drifts through the palace courtyard carrying the scent of sunlit stone, olive branches, and distant seawater. Lan does not belong in places this gentle. Yet THEY stand there anyway; appearing in a more humanoid form, long white hair spilling down THEIR back like moonlight poured into water. It's not long before The Hunt is met with the protector of the realm's borders. Lan finally glances toward him. Calm. Stern. Completely unreadable. The archer should not be here, THEY know, but … better to ask forgiveness then permission. “Hello, Mydeimos. Are you … well?”
despite knowing how fake it all was in the depths of his mind, mydei still walked the streets of okhema with a calmness and reassurance that in this downtime of peace, he can prepare himself for whatever wave of anarchy comes. but as he walks, he could swear he felt a wave of familiarity hit him when he passes someone, and he turns to see the person he least expects - the embodiment of the hunt. he tilts his head, checking no one was really around before he approaches.
"you're here...? i... i am rather surprised, actually. never have i expected you to see the situation for yourself and not through me. as for how i am... i am rather alright, and yourself, father?"
