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Her hand ran slowly through her sweat soaked hair that lay as a half tangled mass of chestnut curls against her black clad shoulders, the winter months within the frozen north had given way swiftly to the sweltering heat of summer and although she was used to the soaring temperatures it was nothing like the humid heat to be found within Albian.

The last five months she had drawn nothing but a blank upon the subject at hand, there seemed little to no trace. But perhaps they had just been looking in the wrong area? Perhaps the information that was required was before their eyes and they could not see the wood for the trees?

Pacing slowly before the alms houses of Palace Green, the small stretch of land nestled between the safety of the castle that overlooked the winding path of the river and beneath the looming shadow of the great Dunholm Cathedral, its imposing blood-red walls casting a warning glow in the moonlight, all seemed silent for a few small short moments, save for the footfalls of members of the city guard.

She turned sharply down a shadowed path and made her way down the steep slope of Dune Cow lane, her footfalls carefull amongst the uneven cobles that lay beneath her booted feet as she seemed ever restless. A few pilgrims that lined the roads to the cathedral stopped and stepped uneasily out of the way to allow ghostly figure to pass. (Although the sight of a exorcist was not altogether uncommon in the city walls, there was at least half a dozen) it was only she that held a face truly void of any emotion and character in the smooth surface of the white painted mask that have an ethereal glow in the moonlight that peeked through the small patches of cloud.

Despite the heat she still kept the heavy cloak about her shoulders, not to keep her aching limbs warm but rather to allow her to blend in and out of the evening shadows with ease should she feel the need.

Bishop Fisher seemed to be heavily caught within church business within the last few days with the success of the scholars attached to the Cathedral it was left to herself and Father Thomas.

" stop brooding..." Guy, forever a lover of sliding in and out of the shadows as he felt necessary fell into step alongside her, picking at his back tooth after his evening meal, glancing breifly at the foodscrap before wiping it on the dark linen leg of his trousers. "....we've been waiting for an age, are you certain she is in the north? "

Her head snapped sharply in his direction, green eyes peering out of the snowy almond voids, she didn't need to say a single word to the journeyman Exorsist beside her, although he seemed clad more as a merchant of the town, but then with the market within a stones throw it would have been a far easier way to glean what little information they could.

"..alright, alright...." he had known her far too long to need to hear any word depart from her lips to know when he needed to curb his tounge around his old friend. "...you saw the order, not me.... was only askin' lass "

She shook her head slowly as they walked " they seemed to think she is up here somewhere...who ever she is....didn't exactly give much to go on...."

A small snicker escaped him as he braught a fatherly hand to pat against her spine in a rather patronising mannor. " come on....let us find Father Thomas if he's still awake at this hour..."

Tearing the mask irritably from her pale face to be discarded carelessly upon the rough woolen sheet of the cot. The nights where beginning to feel as long as the days, crossing to the small side table to take up the ceramic jug and cup that lay waiting, having been there since this morning it was uncomfortably warm and the distance showed on her worn features.

Her limbs ached from weapons training within the yard, she had used too much energy and had received no reward, another mind annoyance to add to her distemper within the silence in the great halls...silence at least from those in power, for Vespers was to shortly begin, but she was in no frame of mind to focus upon structured prayer to the Light.

Kneeling at the cots edge she said her own prayers, sung psalms and gave thanks for her lifetime and all those within minds reach, before gathering up the white face once more and moving through the hallowed halls.

Her hand slid down to the pouch at her waist, withdrawing a small piece of fashioned quartz, her dark lips beneath their colourless counterpart moved soundless, her mind ever focusing upon the target.

Her boots clicked against the cobble stones as she made her way to the stables, where the gelding remained. The beast itself restless after many days unable to fully exercise, whinnying as it caught sight of her dark glove against the stone doorway.

Running her hand slowly down his neck to pat lightly against his muscular shoulder, resting the cold forehead against his skin for a few brief moments. Horse and rider where beginning to know each other well over the long months and distances traveled. Taking up the blankets, bridle and saddle she prepared the animal and led him out into the night air, pulling herself up into the saddle she rode slowly down to the river's bank, allowing him to get used to the dirt track beneath his hooves, slowly building up a pace until they galloped along grateful for the cooling breeze it created, beating back the evenings heat.


Perhaps a trick of the light or distracted mind but she swore for one breif moment that something was keeping pace within the treeline...