62nd Winter 514 AV
Mid-morning
Mid-morning
Fallon blinked. Twice in fact. The first time was to take the view into focus, the second almost in disbelief to what was before her eyes. Whilst she was a firm believer that every rumour had its source, and that most of them were spiralled out of controlled tails - larger than life and merely exaggerated - there was the unnerving chill that something was indeed a miss with the situation before her. And so there she stood within the snow, gauntlets covering her fingers curling around the hilt of the tulwar, her brow settling into a line as she resisted letting her jaw go slack. It was beneath that brow that she looked, the swirling green-blue flickering across it all before settling back to the street around her. The rumours were true and far from exaggerated tales.
It was a mark, one she had also seen before as a warning - enough to send her skin prickling beneath the layers not because of the chill. A sinking sense of dread came down upon her shoulders, the gaze darkening as it settled within her stomach and stared back at her. Fallon's lip twitched, the rumblings of a growl prickling against the back of her throat. It was disturbing, but the chill of realisation quickly came to her as she stared - lump forming in her chest, the rhythm of her pulse quickening within her veins. Around her a few of the passer's by lingered, hush voices and mumbles of alarm. Features pinched, her head turned back to the others looking and trying to read the faces for a glimmer of insight. Instead she saw only the worried expressions, the confusion of the moment .
She almost went to speak, to make demands for answers - but it was those cold gazes that looked back, the eyes flickering to and fro as they tried to come to terms with what was before them. A threat, a clear one at that. Her head snapped round, the shrink back as she felt the bodies almost circle her. Her nostrils flared, the lingering scent of paint smothering her senses. She could not ask, those eyes spoke all she needed. The people did not know, thus there would be no use in forcing them to speak.
Grimacing she turned her head back, the mind clawing back through the seasons for a glimmer of insight. She had seen it before, once that was - but she believed that such an organisation had been dealt with then. Had they returned? Or was this the work of merely fear mongering? Regardless, she did not like it. It struck too close to home and set the cogs turning within her mind, anticipating the next move of this game. Written in red upon the wall, fresh, bold and large. Catch the eye, spread the word, and lure her out into the open. Lips peeled back only to mouth those words to herself, "Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?" She exhaled, "Shyke."
