Eithne could sense there wasn't something quite right about her current situation. It felt like someone was following her, and she wanted to groan. Why couldn't she just catch a moment of peace? Why couldn't she just enjoy the peace and sanctity of a large city without worrying about someone hunting her? Maybe she was being paranoid, though. Deciding not to let on that she knew, she ducked into a cramped alleyway, pulling up her hood. She moved to lean against a corner, pushing her fingers through her dark hair in an effort to tame the wayward locks.
In the here and now, being followed didn't seem necessarily bad. It was more inconvenient than anything. It just meant that either the Alienage wasn't as safe as she'd initially assumed or her luck was just not as great as she'd hoped. As long as she didn't run into a Templar or someone from the Chantry who knew of her and her history, she should be fine. In fact, she'd probably be more than fine. Even now, regardless of who was following her, she had faith in herself and her abilities. She'd survived years of abuse from the Chantry and the Templars and had even survived hunting the Maleficarum.
She wasn't proud of it - far from it - but it'd given her a certain measure of durability. At least, this way, she was putting her skills to the test and hopefully wasn't killing someone in the process. She'd shed enough blood. She was tired. More than that, she wanted to avoid conflict when and where possible. Though she could've used her umbramancy to hide herself, she didn't want to tip her hand just yet. Hopefully, whoever was following her would lose interest when she didn't engage them.
In the here and now, being followed didn't seem necessarily bad. It was more inconvenient than anything. It just meant that either the Alienage wasn't as safe as she'd initially assumed or her luck was just not as great as she'd hoped. As long as she didn't run into a Templar or someone from the Chantry who knew of her and her history, she should be fine. In fact, she'd probably be more than fine. Even now, regardless of who was following her, she had faith in herself and her abilities. She'd survived years of abuse from the Chantry and the Templars and had even survived hunting the Maleficarum.
She wasn't proud of it - far from it - but it'd given her a certain measure of durability. At least, this way, she was putting her skills to the test and hopefully wasn't killing someone in the process. She'd shed enough blood. She was tired. More than that, she wanted to avoid conflict when and where possible. Though she could've used her umbramancy to hide herself, she didn't want to tip her hand just yet. Hopefully, whoever was following her would lose interest when she didn't engage them.
10-21-2023, 04:07 PM
