He's watched, as he makes his way further into the trees. His shield is noted, and at least one scout leaves her position and returns to the aravels.
Because if shems are coming -- if shems who may be Templars are coming, well.
Their First has sworn to take care of them.
Which is why Ysalwen picks her way through the forest, calculating a path that will intersect with this shem far enough away from the Clan to let them escape, if it comes to that.
But once she notices who it is -- who it must be --
She finds it hard to catch her breath. History is a bitch, indeed. Elgar'nan be with her in this. She's going to need the help.
And stepping out of the trees --
"Cullen. I never thought they would send you after me."
Mostly because she thought he was dead, like all the rest of the Templars inside Kinloch.
On her face, hiding the old battlemage tattoo, is the vallaslin of Elgar'nan, half her face black with un-colored branches, the other half her usual pallor, with the branches and vines inked in.
no subject
Because if shems are coming -- if shems who may be Templars are coming, well.
Their First has sworn to take care of them.
Which is why Ysalwen picks her way through the forest, calculating a path that will intersect with this shem far enough away from the Clan to let them escape, if it comes to that.
But once she notices who it is -- who it must be --
She finds it hard to catch her breath. History is a bitch, indeed. Elgar'nan be with her in this. She's going to need the help.
And stepping out of the trees --
"Cullen. I never thought they would send you after me."
Mostly because she thought he was dead, like all the rest of the Templars inside Kinloch.
On her face, hiding the old battlemage tattoo, is the vallaslin of Elgar'nan, half her face black with un-colored branches, the other half her usual pallor, with the branches and vines inked in.
So many things are different, these days.