Well, not entirely expected but a pleasant surprise, he thought dryly while his eyes followed the sound of the gun being cocked. There was a ring in the voice he recognized. Something so distant now that his mind whispered the name of ageless one with only the faintest of breath. It was familiar, yes. But it was a whisper, only a whisper since the impossibility of what it said was unfathomable.
There was something elegant and soft in the confident voice. A women. He just sank back into the shadows. That would have bothered him---once. Women weren't to be made into targets. Ah well. That was once. Just as drinking blood was...once abhorrent to him. One does what they require to survive. Not drinking it had been an experiment he was not one to repeat.
Calm yellow-orange eyes tracked across the hall to the sound through a crack in a wisp of wild hair that was tied half back. Right as rain he walked through the corridors, moving soundlessly accept through the beating of his heart and his breath. He liked knowing that his quarry knew that he was here. It gave them a shot to turn around and run. They never ran fast enough though he thought sadly.
A room. Walking into it he spied something familiar. A small intricate box lying on top of a cabinet. The blood drained momentarily out of his face. It was the pattern on it that looked--changed, yes--but somehow familiar to him. It was something modern curled into something very old. Very. His brows crested between his eyes in a wave of consideration tinged with surprise.
The coven. No. No. He scolded himself. It was...impossible. Inner voice uncertain, it blew out 'improbable but not necessarily impossible'.
It was easy to discard the thoughts and focus on the task at hand. He smirked. Walking through the room he intentionally bumped a chair out of the way as he vanished deeper into the house.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2011-08-16 12:14 am (UTC)There was something elegant and soft in the confident voice. A women. He just sank back into the shadows. That would have bothered him---once. Women weren't to be made into targets. Ah well. That was once. Just as drinking blood was...once abhorrent to him. One does what they require to survive. Not drinking it had been an experiment he was not one to repeat.
Calm yellow-orange eyes tracked across the hall to the sound through a crack in a wisp of wild hair that was tied half back. Right as rain he walked through the corridors, moving soundlessly accept through the beating of his heart and his breath. He liked knowing that his quarry knew that he was here. It gave them a shot to turn around and run. They never ran fast enough though he thought sadly.
A room. Walking into it he spied something familiar. A small intricate box lying on top of a cabinet. The blood drained momentarily out of his face. It was the pattern on it that looked--changed, yes--but somehow familiar to him. It was something modern curled into something very old. Very. His brows crested between his eyes in a wave of consideration tinged with surprise.
The coven. No. No. He scolded himself. It was...impossible. Inner voice uncertain, it blew out 'improbable but not necessarily impossible'.
It was easy to discard the thoughts and focus on the task at hand. He smirked. Walking through the room he intentionally bumped a chair out of the way as he vanished deeper into the house.