[ Part of him already regrets agreeing to let her find him. Impatience is not a trait he normally bears, but right now, he hates needing to wait. He'd rather be moving. He exhales and watches the streets and blinks away the increasingly dark spots in his vision.
As hard as he's attempting to lurk unnoticed, it's near impossible for him. Even in the dimming light, the torches on the streets reflect the shine of his eyes. With her hooded cloak and long skirt, he'd never have recognized Julie on sight alone. Her scent, though—that's not changed. Just overlaid with the smell of ale and soap. The moment he catches it in the air, he steps further out. His fingers wrap tightly around a wood pillar. Blood stains ragged, torn nails; more of it is dried and sticky in his hair.
The sound of his name makes him turn. He releases a breath he'd not realized he was holding. There. She's here. Except, underneath the relief, is the understanding he still needs to stay on his feet to make it back with her, however far that may be. Because there's absolutely no way Julie can carry him anywhere. Which. Fuck. All right.
A beat passes. It takes a second for him to form some sort of coherent reply. ] Could use a hand.
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As hard as he's attempting to lurk unnoticed, it's near impossible for him. Even in the dimming light, the torches on the streets reflect the shine of his eyes. With her hooded cloak and long skirt, he'd never have recognized Julie on sight alone. Her scent, though—that's not changed. Just overlaid with the smell of ale and soap. The moment he catches it in the air, he steps further out. His fingers wrap tightly around a wood pillar. Blood stains ragged, torn nails; more of it is dried and sticky in his hair.
The sound of his name makes him turn. He releases a breath he'd not realized he was holding. There. She's here. Except, underneath the relief, is the understanding he still needs to stay on his feet to make it back with her, however far that may be. Because there's absolutely no way Julie can carry him anywhere. Which. Fuck. All right.
A beat passes. It takes a second for him to form some sort of coherent reply. ] Could use a hand.