Empress and the Wolf

[Hemlocke]

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The man's eyes turned toward Cassandra as she approached him, his eye taking on an inquisitive nature as he poured over everything she did, the raised hand, her stride, her choice of attire, the weapon, before his eyes finally found their way back to her face, studying the woman. The closer she got, the more clear it became that physically, there was something wrong the picture.

The T-shirt he wore did little to hide the scarring of his arms, most of which looked as if they should lave left his arms mangled and disfigured, at least more than they were. His hands flexed a bit as he stretched his arms from the landing, before returning to his sides. From hand nearly to elbow on either arm, there were a plethora of scars, scars he once deemed fit to hide but no longer cared for, bullet craters, gashes and cuts, both deep and shallow, burns and tears. All of which had seemed to heal incredibly well, leaving behind only thick scar tissue that likely didn't do much to protect him from further injury.

The voice that emerged from the rogue came over as dark and calm, smooth, like ice. Deeper in tone than might've been expected.

"Never was one for subtlety."

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