The streets, the hustle and bustle, the residents, the wares... Everything about the place was familiar, right down to the cobblestone path upon which he strolled confidently, ignoring the many people calling for his attention, or rather, for the attention of any who would care to take a look. Frey walked unburdened, appreciative of the distance some people gave him. His spellweaver’s robes marked him for what he was – a decent mage, by most standards – and already, due to his many visits in the recent while, a number of folks had begun to recognize him.

If they’d known of the circumstances behind today’s visit, however, they might have strayed even further. Though the sombre look about him spoke not of death, the intent in his eyes spoke the potential of murder, the truth that some blood would likely be spilt on this day, and in some abundance, too. Somebody in this town had wronged him, and while Frey was not usually one for revenge, he could make some exceptions for certain people. A certain guild of thieves, for example...

Cinched to his waist were both a bundled cloak and, inside this cloth, a many-pronged whip. Latched onto his back was a fierce-looking battle axe, which pulsed a hungry black, as though reflecting his dark humor, the likes of which very few had ever witnessed. A good number of runes were stored in the inner pockets of his robes, and he was more than satisfied that he could accomplish what he had set out to do.

Purpose dictated his even strides on this day, directed his keen vulpine ears upward, and easily moved him past the alluring sounds of the market place. If he’d wanted to, he could easily have settled into one of the booths on loan and attracted a crowd to his wares, but he was not here to sell today, and on top of that, he still wasn’t so fond of the masses. There were few people in the land Frey truly cared for as anything above acquaintances, by his estimation, and he vaguely wondered if he would meet any of them here.

Most of the runeshaper sincerely hoped he wouldn’t, for distractions were a vastly unwelcome thing at this point in time. A small part of him, however...

Somewhere in the noise there would always be a silence. In the depths of chaos there would be some form of order. How it wished it could find that solace now. Bodies were everywhere. Packed tightly together, no one willing to budge to let another pass. Noise poured from everywhere. Males and females alike shouted. Vendors hawked their wares. Children laughed and screamed as they dodged between the mass of bodies. Why the humans would tolerate this it could not understand. It barely understood why it was this deep into the god forsaken town. Usually it held it’s meanderings through the streets to the parts where there were few people, to the outskirts.

It pushed it’s way through the crowd ignoring the sounds of protest it received when a body was displaced. The few who thought that they should reprimand it for moving them were quickly dissuaded by the pressing of a sword hilt into their stomach. None were willing to argue with the one who wore the form of a female and bore crimson markings on her face. If anyone looked closely enough they would glimpse a cold glare from bright blue eyes, which seemed to hold killing intent, just barely restrained. Barely. This one’s hands were soaked with blood. It could almost hear some of them thinking to themselves. If they reported to the guardsman, it would be gone long before anything could be done.

After awhile it began to hear words. For the most part the words were ignored. None of the words ever meant anything. It was much easier to judge based on the feelings alone. Over and over the same words seemed to be repeated. A name. Maybe one of the humans that lived in the castle. They seemed to garner attention like that. It moved on. It did not care about the mortal nobility.

Still the name persisted. Grew stronger. Was it coming to the source? Frey. The word was familiar. Though, it had been awhile. It could not say a long time. A statement like that could mean lifetimes. Maybe it was the same. It pushed forward more. The mass of bodies thinned out, yet, the voices repeating the name grew more numerous.

What do you think you’re doing? Filthy bitch.

The man who spoke those words was the first to seem like he truly wished to challenge it. The words he spoke made some of the crowd turn towards them. With a quiet indifference and a fluid motion the man was on his back, staring at the female face it wore, hilt of it’s sword pressed against his throat. ”Go home before someone gets hurt”. Words came from it’s throat, quiet and raspy. Like the sound of blowing sand.

It moved on. Then it passed the threshold of the crowd of people. No one ventured further. The figure in the middle of the bubble seemed threatening. Familiar. A faint smile flitted across the face as it stepped forward. Deeper into the barren field.

Moments passed. It walked in step with the figure. Frey. It remained behind the man. A few steps behind and to the side, but matching the stride perfectly. ”Frey. It has been awhile. You have changed.” It smiled on the last word. It could feel some of the tension that radiated forth, only added to by the presence of weapons.

It remained in step where it was, content for the moment. It kept it’s mind sharp, ready to take the one step back it would need to escape the male’s reach if he attacked with a weapon. One did not live long if they were not ready to move out of the way of dangerous things. It had come across many people who did not know how to play that game.

Naturally, it was neither rank nor reputation that had the people of Mooncrest scattering before his path. They were quite used to anomalies amongst their crowd... heck, the town occasionally entertained even gods. No, it was not any sort of prestige garnered, but that still angry gaze that split the crowd, one that promised pain to any who dared intervene with his business.

What they could not see was the emptiness behind the threat. The mage was more than adept a liar when he wanted to be, and could easily hide from strangers that it was not normally in his nature to be violent unless there was a real need. Where the thieves had stolen from him (a huge crime, by the books of a hoarder such as Frey), and thus given him cause to plot a suitable revenge, he could, however, deign to make an exception. One did not take from this mage, or from his guild, for that matter, and hope to get away with it. He had no reason to turn his ire on any other.

And so it was that he did not turn with any measure of hostility when he heard his name called suddenly, though he did bristle in mild annoyance, wondering what new device the world had called upon in a latest attempt at distracting him. He whirled on his heels to face the stranger - for a stranger was what he saw before him - and, immediately, all traces of a frown left his face, to be briefly replaced by confusion. This person seemed to know him... but...?

His eyes more than spoke the message he did not yet speak. They asked, clearer than anything: ...And you are?

Cocking his head to the side slightly, his hands resting easy at his sides, he seemed to be contemplating his next course of action. Ultimately, it did not take him long to decide, for his next path was the same as his previous path: he had a mission to complete. And so, of a mind to do just that, he turned back and begun to walk once more, signalling the newcomer to follow if they so chose.

"You speak to me with an air of familiarity," he noted at once, his expression nothing less than calculating. He sighed, absently brushing a hand through his thick brown hair. "But I do not recognize you, no, not in the slightest."

The admittance of such a truth was more than disconcerting, but nothing he could help. Suddenly, he heard the newcomer's voice in his mind again, nagging him, begging him to remember, but the mental prod was short-lived, and went thereafter summarily ignored. No. He didn't know this person, unless they were wearing a disguise, in which case he would simply have to wait for he or she to reveal themselves.

That was about the only thing Frey could hope for, at present. That, or that the person, if useless, would leave him to the task at hand. This brought him to reconsider, and he waved a hand idly in Sable's direction. The sullen mage grit his teeth and shook his head.

"Bah. Whether or not I do know you, I apologize now, but I've more pressing matters to attend to. No time for idle chatter, no, none at all. Sorry."

With a huff, he quickened his pace and turned down a nearby alley, eager to be away from the crowds and on with his job.

Sable watched the sky as it walked. Arms crossed in the small of it’s back, in the small alcove between it’s quiver and the small of it’s back. It kept the male in the very edges of it’s vision, trusting his motions to let it know when it should dodge something. It didn’t have to worry about the people anymore, they were all giving the two a wide berth. Sable was doing it’s best to suppress it’s nature. None would trust a figure that radiated blood lust, especially if they knew how armed it was.

It was not terribly worried about Frey not recognizing it. That meant that it’s guise worked, hiding the monstrosity that hid beneath the skin. Slowly a smile met it’s face. This might be another game meant for the playing.

”I guess I have changed myself a bit since last we met.” The phrasing of the statement sounded a joke, and there was a hint of humor underlying the dry, raspy voice it spoke in. It let the statement hang in the air as it continued following the male. It’s steps matched his perfectly, testament to the training it had undergone, which made walking in step a second nature.

Laughter almost came out when the male bid it to leave. Had it been another person it might have listened, but Sable almost considered this male to be a friend. Sable had no intention of leaving now. It knew from the past that this male tended to have interesting things to do.

When he turned down the alley, Sable followed, not missing a step. For the first time since it had started following the male, it looked around momentarily. Places like this could be spots for ambushes, though, they usually took place under the protective cover of darkness. There tended to be objects in alleyways, which would mean it had to watch it’s step.

Once it knew what obstructions were in it’s path, it looked to the sky. For a moment it closed it’s eyes, sniffing the air. It did not have the scent ability in this form that it held in it’s other forms, which sometimes felt like it was crippled.

With the smile still on it’s lips it opened it’s eyes again, looking at the male for a few moments. ”Do you know if there is anywhere nearby where we can find fish?” It let it’s voice adopt the lisp that it’s first form had carried, from it’s awkwardly shaped mouth. The mispronunciations felt strange in it’s mouth, almost like talking around a solid object that sat in it’s mouth. It only welled upon this for a moment before letting the grin return to it’s face as it stared into the sky.

It was most definitely having fun with this game. Part of it wondered, though, whether it would still be shooed away when Frey knew it’s true identity. If he could remember.

Whatever 'game' was being played, Frey did not fancy himself a willing player. With a half-muted growl, the mage sought to move away, but the tall creature beside him appeared to have no trouble at all in keeping up; even when Frey went so far as to double his previous speed, his legs were simply much too short to make a great deal of difference. Alas for the things life dealt a person; he would simply have to make do with the current situation...

...No matter how much having to do so irritated him.


"Have you now?" Frey replied in a biting, sarcastic tone, lithe brows furrowed in annoyance. His pace was made but of haste, and it was all too obvious he wished this stranger - for never before had he met such a face, and he knew it - would leave him alone. "Well, that makes two of us, then, I am sure."

This last remark had been muttered with a hint of cryptic undertones. What exactly did the runeshaper mean by that, one might wonder? But, the elusive wizard was hardly about to let on. Sure, he looked similar on the surface, but underneath it all-

"Fish?" Frey echoed incredulously, coming to a halting stop. His frown grew deeper, and had progressed to the stage of 'scowl' within the instant. He whirled to face his unwanted companion, fists clenched loosely at his sides. He shook his head vehemently, apparently wanting to make a point. It looked at though he were about to explode, so furiously flushed were his freckled cheeks at present.

"Why. Would. I. Know. About. FISH?" Grinding words, and, across his features, obvious distaste as he spoke the word.

Thankfully, after a deep breath, it did not take long for him to regain his composure, and most certainly he was berating himself now for having lost his cool so easily. With a sigh of resignation, he waved Sable away, turned in the direction he'd been heading prior, and resumed his walk.

"My apologies. Listen, I don't really like fish, so, no, I cannot specifically tell you where to find them. But, I do believe I can guide you in the right direction. I would go to the docks, if I were you, and I'm willing to hazard a bet as to there being some located in the markets someplace."

Again, he stopped abruptly, his eyes growing somewhat wide.

"That voice..." But a murmur, but spoken audibly nonetheless.

Perhaps hoping the other hadn't heard, he continued once again. This time, however, it was his turn to pose a question:

"Do you know if there is anywhere nearby I might buy a new scarf?"

[[bad vicky, bad! -thwaps self for wait-]]