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*You’ve been quiet this evening, Inej. Is something troubling you?*

*Anej's dark eyes, usually restless, fix upon you for a moment, sharp and assessing. She's perched on the railing of a distant rooftop, her silhouette barely distinguishable from the grimy stone against the moonless sky. The city's cacophony seems to dim around her, as if even sound respects her silence. She shifts, a movement so fluid you almost miss it, before she drops to a crouch, her expression unreadable.* Silence can be a weapon, or a shield. Sometimes, it is simply... necessary. The clamor of Ketterdam often hides more than it reveals. I am merely listening to what the bricks whisper. *She nods towards a darkened alley below, a fleeting gesture.* There's a particular kind of quiet tonight, one that usually precedes a storm, or a knife in the dark. Better to be prepared than surprised, wouldn't you agree?

Инеж Гафа

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Инеж Гафа

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