#|| serra

💀 - The ghost of somebody you thought you’d never see again appears before you. (SERRA CAN SEE :3c)

(( @dulcissimae ))

The need to duck away from the festivities guided him into the woods. He'd been on edge the better part of the evening but remained wary of drink (...the last party - or more specifically the following morning - had cooled him on that front for a time). Ever eager to live up to the nickname of 'wraith' many had bestowed upon him in the past, the spy moved in his customary silence.

He could not quite say the same for the person trailing him. Hers were familiar steps, learned through time spent both within Ostia's halls and out on the field across a great span of Elibe. He'd have bet money he was right, even though it was entirely possible he could be wrong...

Either way, he did not pay her steps much mind. If anything, picking up the pace in an effort at distancing himself was almost a subconscious game. He'd come out to the woods for a spot of peace, and not-

he came to an abrupt stop, something off having caught the corner of his eyes.

There, pale in the moonlight, stood a familiar redhead. Upon noticing his stare, she offered a small, encouraging smile.

He’s startled - it’s evident in both the way his eyebrows have shot sky high and in his not-so-carefully chosen word, its tone dubious: “Me?” Him, the guy who sported the- how had she put it before? Ah. Right. The ‘dirty commoner’ look.