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Sydney Parker

"I'm not much, really, but maybe one day, I'll be enough. That's worth hoping for, right?"

0 · 678 views · located in USA

a character in “Paranormal Dilemmas”, originally authored by Ion, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

The Raven-haired Sister
Image




Name
Sydney Giselle Parker

Nickname
She answers to Syd more often than Sydney, actually.

Age
21- though if we’re being truthful, she sometimes looks a little younger than even that. Syd has a serious babyface going on, if she doesn’t hide it behind glasses and well-tailored suits.

Gender
Female

Appearance
Sydney Parker generally thinks that there was a limited amount of good-looking to go around in the Parker family, and her sisters took the lion’s share of it. Not that she minds—she’s inclined to think that being pretty is more trouble than it’s worth, and every time Saph brings home another story about a guy being a jerk or something of that nature, she’s almost certain she’s right. That said, she’s aware that she’s not ugly by any means, just
 not them.

Her hair’s a sometimes-wavy, sometimes-curly mass of raven-colored locks that fall to around the middle of her back, with blunt bangs cut to hang over her forehead. The color is dark as pitch (unlike the pictures, in which it is brown). As a child, she used to keep them even longer, so she could hide her face, but now that she’s emerged into the adult world, she knows she can’t afford to be that shy anymore. There are good things to be done, and she can’t do them if she only knows how to hide. While naturally on the tousled side of things, Syd usually forces her hair into a demure bun at the base of her neck when at work, or else a ponytail otherwise. She thinks she looks like a child if it’s allowed to go unrestrained, so it’s kept under careful, precise control whenever she has to appear in public.

Easily her most striking feature is her eyes: large, bright, and green-blue, she most often surrounds them with a pair of square-framed glasses. She doesn’t really need the prescription, but as with her hair, she thinks they make her look a little more like an adult, and are thus well worth any inconvenience they might hold for her. Sydney is actually somewhat tall for a woman, though not as tall as Simone, having inherited her father’s disposition towards height, but none of his sturdiness. At a willowy 5’8”, she nevertheless can look like the smallest of her siblings should they walk into a room together, because her body language is unassuming and reserved, without any of the natural vitality and forcefulness of her sisters, at least not most of the time. Proportioned to be long in limb and elegant of stature, it’s nevertheless hard to tell on occasion. Her shape is neat and trim, though not without curvature. The proportions of her are such that her bust is a bit wider than her hips, and her waist quite small, giving her a subtle but not always-obvious hourglass.

Possessed of a pale, smooth complexion and dewy skin, she is almost never seen with any but the most basic of makeup products on, mostly because she can’t be bothered to waste the time. You can dress up a gosling all you want, but it’s still not a swan. Her face has a slight dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, but this she does conceal, with a clever application of just a little foundation and powder.

At work, Syd’s dressed sharply, in well-tailored women’s suits and crisply-pressed shirts, usually white, and heels. The click on wood, tile, or cement reminds her of who she’s supposed to be, and she appreciates that. On concert nights, she wears the black gown typical of a member of the orchestra, usually without much jewelry. It’s clear that she’s modeled her appearance after other people without really learning how to put personal touches on anything. When at home and absolutely certain that nobody but her cat will see her, she actually favors really loose, plaid shirts (normally bought in the men’s section of cheap department stores), acid-wash jeans, and tank tops, with mismatched socks, no less.

She usually smells of vanilla and honey, for whatever reason.


ImageOccupation
Syd makes money as a lawyer, but what she really loves are the nights when the orchestra plays. Not a professional musician, she nevertheless has a position with a relatively well-known symphony that operates in her area. She plays violin, a talent she has been honing since childhood.

Skills/Equipment
Syd has never had any martial arts training or anything of the kind, but she’s not an idiot, so she carries a taser on her person at all times, and knows how to use it. She can also fire a gun, if need be, but she doesn’t own one of those, generally not believing in them.

Personality
She’d tell you there isn’t much to know. Syd is, on the surface, very businesslike, solemn, and serious. She looks like the kind of person you could just bowl over at will, be that physically or in a conversation, but for all that, there’s a surprising amount of strength to her. Personality-wise, that is, as she is rather physically weak. She has something of a complex about her appearance, which is why she goes to such great lengths to appear to be somewhat sterner and older than she actually is. The disguise is fairly good, but the astute observer may be able to pick out that she has something to hide. To get anywhere in a male-dominated profession like hers, it’s not enough to be intelligent and good-hearted. You have to make people believe that you mean business, that you’re worth listening to, and you can’t do that if they’re too busy looking at you and thinking you resemble their teenaged daughter.

You also can’t do it by being a shy, mousy wet blanket, which is exactly the kind of person Syd used to be. Back when she was just Sydney, the baby of her insular little family, and the one that was always sick. She was a withdrawn, introverted soul who had trouble making friends outside of a very small circle of them. She was never bullied in school; her sisters were far too protective and careful for that to happen, but all the same she never really made much of an impression on anybody either. She was the quiet girl at the back of her class, and that was it.

Since those days, she’s toughened considerably. Going to college two years before most people do forced her to more or less grow a spine, and learn to let harsh words go without absorbing them. She was always intelligent, and found that academic work was to her liking. It was a political science professor that convinced her to go to law school: but he also warned her that it wouldn’t be easy. So Sydney learned to stand straight, talk clearly, and dress like she knew what she was doing. The rest was easy, and nowadays, she works full time at a public defender’s office even at the tender age of 21.

Syd is ruled by her logic and her knowledge; she does not like the idea of relying upon her feelings to make even the most minor decisions. That works well enough for some people, but she fears that if she opened her heart up again even a little, she’d revert to that helpless little child she used to be, and that’s the last thing she wants. An extensive education has made her very aware of the goings-on in the world, and she’s an avowed feminist, advocate, and champion of the downtrodden, or at least she’s trying to be. Nothing about getting up in front of people and talking comes easily to her, but she’s doing the best she can, and a strain of her sisters’ stubbornness (admittedly mostly Saph's, though she knows Simone can get that way when she needs to) must have survived in her after all, because when she really cares about something, she’ll never give up. She thanks them for that, viewing it as something they gave her by example, and to this day, she sometimes refer to her odd moment of stubbornness as "borrowing a little Saph."

Underneath the façade of professional distance she puts up, part of Syd is still very tender and vulnerable. Somewhere, all the disparaging remarks she earns, the occasional losses in court, and all the people telling her she’ll never succeed do hurt her, but in the times when that’s at its worst, she always has family to rely upon, and she thinks that’s important. Deeply devoted to the people she loves, she’ll never hesitate to help one of her sisters, even if there isn’t much she can do.

Despite herself, Syd still believes in love, though mostly as something that happens to other people. She’s never had a serious boyfriend or even a one-night stand, and mostly doesn’t think she’s suited for that kind of thing.


ImageHistory
The third and final Parker child, Sydney’s was a mostly-happy childhood punctuated with bouts of illness. She was a colicky baby, and even now her immune system isn’t that great. She never had leukemia or anything so horrible, but she was prone to episodes of bronchitis that would last an entire winter, and for some reason even when she exercised, she’d never gain much muscle mass or anything like that. It was worse as a young girl than it is now, and it led her parents to worry for her, to the extent that they coddled her quite a bit.

Though she just found it bothersome at the time, she now realizes that it was hurting Saph especially, and still feels kind of guilty about it. At the time, she coped with everything by retreating inward, not really socializing with anyone and instead devoting herself to her violin and schoolwork, both of which she proved to be exemplary at. Then and now, she was not one given to smiling, laughter, or really anything that looked like happiness, so her family learned to gauge her moods by the timbre of the tune she was playing. Naturally, she was mostly overlooked at school, but that didn’t much bother her.

Sydney has always looked up to her vibrant, lovely older sisters, and at times been jealous of their ability to express themselves and really be the people they want to be. Even so, she loves them dearly, and would never wish even the faintest harm upon them. She thinks that Simone's job is simply amazing, and likes to visit the zoo whenever she has free time on a weekend. This comes partially from her interest in gaining new knowledge, and also partly because part of her really wants to expand on what little common ground sha and Simone really have with one another. She loves going to the theater with Sapphire, and they tend to alternate who gets to pick the play.

With no friends or major social obligations in high school and having already skipped a grade in elementary, Syd graduated a full year early and went to college in the Northeast, graduating another year ahead of schedule and attending law school at Harvard. She turned down a few offers from prestigious firms to pursue her ideal of getting justice for those who otherwise couldn’t afford it, and has now been employed at the Public Defender’s office for a few months. She’s gradually discovering that it’s nothing like she’d planned, but holds out hope for it even now.


Other
Sydney lives in a loft-style apartment in the city, by herself save for a very fluffy grey cat named Tennyson, after the poet. The place is packed with bookshelves and cozy furniture, though she doesn’t actually own a television. Syd has a fondness for both cooking and ice cream. Actually, she loves all sweets, but swears that Saph’s are much better than hers and refuses to eat basically any confection that wasn’t made by her sister.

Post
(This is how Syd met her only male friend, a guy named Jack.)

If Syd were being honest with herself, she didn’t want to be here. The voices burned her ears and the smoke seared her eyes and nose; the patrons were at various stages of inebriation, writhing about on the dance floor as though they were but foam on the ocean, tossed about by waves they could feel but not see. It wasn’t something she knew or understood; so many such instinctual things were beyond her. She’d given them up for a mind of tempered steel, a sharp, bladelike wit that cut through obfuscations so automatically she knew not how to leave the mystery be anymore. She could feel the thrum of the bass seeping up through the legs of her chair, and reminded herself that it would not be very fearless, professional woman for her to grab her legs and tuck her knees to her chest in hopes that the smell of vomit wafting from the restroom wouldn’t make her sick as well.

Yet, here she was, and here she would remain. Because her friend Elizabeth was performing tonight, and Syd had made it a point to attend every single one of her concerts or gigs that she could, minus those that work prevented her from seeing. In her mind, Liz was an incredibly-talented singer and stageperson, and it was any day now that some person with a record company was going to happen to be at one of these shows and then boom, her friend would be as famous and loved as she deserved to be. The thought alone nearly teased a smile from Syd’s pale lips, but not quite. She didn’t smile often, and less-often naturally, so her happiness with the idea was expressed only by a slight softening of her eyes and the happy strains of some Vivaldi piece that struck up in her head. Simone was the force and vibrancy and melancholy of autumn, Sapphire the energy and freshness of spring. Sydney was the chill and quietude of winter. Sometimes, she wondered if they might have had a fourth sister, who was something more like summer. But it didn’t matter. As three, they were complementary in different ways, and that was nice.

She was brought from her musings by the ebbing away of the bass, signaling the end of the act before Liz. Straightening in her seat, Sydney pushed her glasses up on her nose and glanced eagerly towards the stage. Logically, she knew that this one show was unlikely to make a difference. It was so hard to get a career in music, was what everyone said and most tacitly knew
 and yet. Yet for once, as with all things involving the people she loved, Syd couldn’t quite bring herself to think with her head alone. Her heart, that pitiful, fluttering organ in her chest, knew differently.

If only she remembered how to speak its language.

Somewhere to her left, something moved, and she turned slightly to see what the disturbance was, nearly jumping out of her chair when she realized a stranger had taken the seat next to her at her table. “Sorry,” he said, though there wasn’t really much apology to it. “There’s nowhere else left.” He smiled disarmingly, holding up his hands as if to show that he was no threat. He had very much the classic look of a Californian about him- all suntanned skin and sandy hair. It reminded her of some people she'd known in school, always complaining about the snow in Cambridge.

Sydney glanced around, realizing that he was right, and her mouth turned down a bit. She wasn’t very good with things like this, to say the least. “Oh, no problem.” She blinked, then turned back to the stage, resolved to ignore his presence as much as she could without being downright rude. Curling a loose strand of hair around her finger, she tucked it neatly into place behind her ear, chewing absently on a lip.

“So,” he continued, “what’s your name?” He was close enough that she could see the dilation in his pupils, and knew that he was probably drunk, though he didn't seem belligerent. Inwardly, Syd sighed, but she tried to remain polite.

“I’m Syd,” she said simply, debating for a split second before she went ahead and stuck out her hand for him to shake. The man looked at it as if dumbfounded for a second, then threw back his hand and laughed, causing her eyebrows to furrow and a thin line to appear between them. Just what was so funny, anyway?

He took the hand and shook it firmly, shaking his head. “You’re a strange girl, Syd. I’m Jack.”

So begins...

Sydney Parker's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Garreth Vilhei Frost Character Portrait: Sydney Parker Character Portrait: Rhaun Dreamspeaker
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Rhaun Dreamspeaker

With the recent events Rhaun’s moments of respite have grown heavier with visions. Despite how calm the sleeping Lykae appeared, even now his eyes behind the closed eyelids shifted rapidly. He was seeing dreams and in them sights from both this world and that from which he and the others came blended, some reflecting the recent unrest, others bearing dark forebodings. And from both of them would emerge reasons for new concerns. The advisor made the slight effort to separate shards of visions in his troubling dreams, so as to pay more attention to both and regard both with due focus. And so from this came the glimpses of a recent conversation with his stubborn King.

What had spurred the conversation in the first place was a number of abnormalities that the advisor’s keen senses detected upon Garreth’s return to the manor. While at first Rhaun was inclined to merely greet his King and return to his meditative practices and overlooking of the Lykae resting place, something was strange. Indeed he caught a strange combination of scents coming from the King, all of them familiar and few being at all welcome in this place. Distinguished first was of course the slightest trace of the scent of their enemies, one of the warring sides. But isolated and identified along with it was another – and that one was the scent of a human. Rhaun had felt it before and this unwelcome duet prompted the advisor to make his move.

When he spoke, the King responded only scarcely. He would give his advisor the attention somewhat begrudgingly, but knowing full well where they stood, he heeded his words nonetheless. And so Rhaun was given a clear opening in which to speak, gauging his King’s every reaction. The way his posture, expression, even minute scents shifted throughout the conversation. Though to an extent such a thing would be strange, largely Rhaun’s words were directed at the second smell, and the main reason for him striking that particular conversation in the first place hinged on it as well.

“We are in a world that is not ours, my King
” He would say in a measured tone. “
 We limit our interactions with it. I realize the need to go beyond this manor. Else we would be naught but prisoners here. But now you bring with you the familiar scent few of us would want to sense here
” He paused. Much could be derived from what his senses told him, but Rhaun acknowledged the possibility of misjudging the specifics. Especially concerning the scent he’d originally felt two whole years ago. Yet by some twist of fate it had etched itself into his memory. “Understand
” He continued. “
That my main concern is that it seems you have crossed paths with a certain resident of this world. While her initial emergence may have been an
 unfortunate necessity, I strongly advise you not to let her become involved systematically.” The end of his phrase was stressed both by his tone and by his calm glance gaining a near-tangible note of force to it. “We are in a world untouched by our ancient war, my King. Do not make steps that might bring them together to any extent...”

The King, of course, was not pleased by their rather one-sided exchange, yet was forced to accept his advisor’s authority, if only in his presence. Rhaun knew not what the King did as soon as the older Lykae was gone, nor did it matter. He only spoke the truth and while he sensed that his words alone were unlikely to sway the developments, it was, if anything, his responsibility to expose the issue. The last that Garreth heard of his advisor that day was the occasional tapping of the bottom of his staff against the floor of the manor.

With the conversation with his King taking up one half of his visions that night, the other half was instead occupied by images from further beyond. The features he could see were still familiar. They were those of their kind left in their world. He saw the priestesses, providing support and aid in his absence, the Lykae coming to them for advice. He could see more and more worry in the eyes of those coming to them. The priestesses, particularly the oldest, would respond diligently, but their reassurances put less and less faith in the hearts troubled by conflict. The absence of both the King and the Advisor was never a condition that could last for too long. But this time in particular there was danger and it was coming not from outside, but brewing among the Lykae’s very own ranks. A strong hand was needed to guide them. One had to wonder how much longer tradition that demanded respect to the priestesses would keep their kind from showing its more feral side.

Despite the troubling sights in his dream, when Rhaun awakened, it was a calm transition. His eyes opened and but a few breaths later he sat up in his bed. Soon he was already up and alert with no visible effort exerted for a single motion, a single step and not a thing betraying the troubling nature of his visions experienced through the dream. The same remained true even as he exited towards the courtyard and began a round of exercises with his staff. To an onlooker it would appear to be akin to the training of a martial artist, but to Rhaun it was more a dynamic form of meditation. Following an hour or so of the practice he would return to the mansion and there – encounter a servant, whom he asked of the King’s whereabouts.

“The King has yet to return, Master Rhaun.” Came the servant’s response, voice displaying uncertainty and a tang of worry. It has been well over a full day and it was the first time such a thing occurred, at least for the duration of this visit. Rhaun closed his eyes, as though pausing with the realization of the unfolding of events indeed refusing to sway from but a single conversation.

“I shall require transportation to the city. The King’s presence is required
”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Garreth Vilhei Frost Character Portrait: Sydney Parker
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#, as written by Ion
Image



It was a simple, unmistakable fact that human beings did some of their best thinking in the shower. Maybe it was the relaxing effects of hot water, releasing dopamine into her system or something. Maybe it was the scalp massage or the smell of soap and shampoo. Maybe it was just the fact that there were minimal environmental distractions. Whatever the case, it was during her shower that morning that she came to a few realizations about her peculiar situation.

  • One: Simone had now been missing more than two weeks. According to statistics, her chances of still being alive were almost impossibly small. Sydney, with no real choice otherwise, resolved not to think about this one too hard. Almost would just have to be the most important word in that sentence for the conceivable future.

  • Two: Whatever Mr. Frost knew about the situation, he wasn't planning on telling her. That was more a guess than a proper deduction, but she was pretty sure of it all the same. Ordinarily, this would have upset her, maybe, but at the moment she was more concerned with figuring out why than anything. Sure, he was a difficult type of person to deal with, but it took much more than "difficult" to withhold information about a person's missing sister. Short of being a sociopath, she figured he had to have a reason. Maybe it was better to leave that one alone for a while as well.

  • Three: She really had no good reason to go to the grocery store. Considerably less important than the other two, but in her defense, she was conditioning, and that wasn't as important as the rest, and not something she did every day either. It was also the only thing on which she could immediately act. Or, well, not act, maybe. Why should she go buy groceries she wouldn't use for someone who'd be gone in a few hours, tops? She was being ridiculous, and she didn't have the funds to do that.

Shutting off the water, she made haste getting dressed and swiping a comb through her hair, twisting it up atop her head deftly and pinning it there. She was just passing into her bedroom when her cell phone rang from its place on the charger, and she detached it swiftly, placing it to her ear as she made her way out into the living area. "Hello? Oh, Keith, how are you?" There was a long pause, during which Sydney rummaged around in her cupboards and at last managed to procure a bagel and some nutella. It was a nutella kind of morning, as in: she would need the endorphin boost of minor happiness to get through the day, she could sense it already.

"What, really? Oh, wow. Um... when should I...? Now?" She shot a glance at her houseguest. "Give me a little while to get down there. I'll be in as soon as I can, I promise." Another few moments, and then she hung up, sliding the phone into the pocket of her jeans. Taking a second (well, a few seconds), to take and chew over her first bite of breakfast, Syd filled him in on the conversation.

"That was Keith Davis, a forensic technician with the SDPD. I asked him to run some DNA profiles on all that blood behind the club. None of it was Simone's, I know, but it was weird that it all just happened to be there on the same night she went missing and a bunch of people lost their memories." She paused. "So he did workups on all the not-matches, and he tells me the results were interesting. He wants me-- us, now, I suppose-- to come in and see them as soon as we can." The tension of excitement was clearly visible in Sydney; she was obviously struggling not to fidget too much and keep her cool, but the fact that she was smiling at all-- a small one, but still-- would have given her away.

He had been lounging on her couch trying to read one of her papers while the woman had been showering. A frown had found its way on to his lips almost immediately after he began this process. How obsessed was this woman with gender equality anyway? Did she not realize there was no equality? Women needed to be protected, not throwing themselves out there like--

Her voice brought his attentions away from his musings. There was a noticeable hitch yet not one with a negative connotation. Hm, was that a faint smile on her face? She looked more awake than she had when they had had their earlier conversation (which he was still inwardly sore about). He rolled his eyes faintly. She just couldn't follow orders, could she? She always had to have a response or some sort ready for him, there was always something that prevented her from ever listening to his directives. Not without the proper push.

"Interesting data on the DNA samples, hm? How--" He cut himself off. Wait. What if the parasites hadn't been as cautious as usual? The mess waiting at the club was credible enough, not completely careless but not the cleanest job. And if that were the case, there could be the chance that maybe one of those blood samples wasn't exactly....

Even if he didn't like the blood suckers at all, keeping that part of the world hidden from those on the outside was more of a priority. Appetite forgotten, he straightened up on the couch. "Fine, whatever. Where exactly are we headed? You have the address, I assume?"

"Of course. I'm down at the station all the time. You should be familiar with it, too." She raised a brow just slightly, a reminder that they'd dragged him down there after his 'incident' at the bar two years ago. And she, determined, slightly foolhardy defense-attorney-in-training, had gone after him to make sure he was properly read his rights and given his due process. Definitely a bit silly in retrospect: she had since learned that he could probably afford a small army of high-price lawyers with decades more experience than one silly law student, but whatever the reason, he'd consented to her 'help' anyway.




"Hm." Sydney's lips were pursed as she examined the files. "It looks like some of these DNA profiles match recent missing persons cases, more than one of them last known to have been at the club beforehand, all reported around the same time. How has nobody noticed this before now? I mean, DNA or not, that's a pretty huge coincidence." She took another bite of her yogurt and granola. They'd made their way here, to a moderately-upscale restaurant cafe, largely because Garreth had been hungry and it served meat products. Honestly, how carnivorous could you be? Two meals without meat was hardly unusual, even for people who ate it regularly. Well, she didn't mind, so fine.

Of course, something else puzzled her. They'd run analysis on hairs found at the scene, mostly because they were such an odd silvery color, and found in close proximity to the blood. The first time, the analysis had failed. Just... failed. "And what would fail a DNA test, anyway?" The notes Keith had left her indicated that it wasn't dog or cat or horse hair, but it wasn't human, either. Maybe it came from one of the exotic animals Simone worked with? Certainly a possibility.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Garreth Vilhei Frost Character Portrait: Sydney Parker Character Portrait: Rhaun Dreamspeaker
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Rhaun Dreamspeaker

Humans, to some extent, were quite the ingenious beings. For all their losses in terms of connection with nature they came up with many appliances with rather impressive capabilities. Where they would lead he did not know, but for now one such appliance in the form of a wheeled vehicle was taking him from the Lykae manor to the city. Compliant with the laws of this world, Rhaun sat next to the half-lykae driver charged with his transportation, his seatbelt fastened, constraining as it felt. He would mostly observe the passing scenery through the window, the trees soon changed to a forest of concrete. Some elements of the manmade habitat seemed to challenge the very skies themselves. He could state with certainty that no castle back home would reach this high upwards. But then again, was there much need for it?

The driver and the passenger spoke scarcely, the advisor merely giving a single direction – to be taken to the city to see Garreth. Taking the size of the city in consideration, it was, at first glance, not a particularly easy task. In fact one might wonder where exactly the driver would even go, to which road he’d turn or where he would wait for the Lykae King and his Advisor’s return. Still, Rhaun seemed calm as collected as always and quite certain about the direction they were going, only occasionally asking to take a turn here or there. It was worth noting that he’d opened the window, the air from outside freely coursing through the interior as they advanced.

“Here would be good enough.” He spoke finally and the car came to a halt by the pavement, Rhaun stepping out and looking back to the driver. “You may return without me. We shall find our way back once I find Him.”

Though seeming hesitant to obey, the young half-lykae did not question and nodded, departing as soon as the Lykae advisor closed the door. When he began walking down the pavement, there was determination of sorts in his motion, like there was little question as to where to go. All around him, unbeknownst to the passersby, spirits, scarce yet starved for contact with one able to perceive them, whispered. He mouthed wordless responses to them when fewer eyes were on him, perhaps making the impression of humming the lyrics to a song or something of the sort. His activities were easy enough to dismiss as mundane even as the Lykae was in fact gradually tracking his King. His typically ascetic appearance, albeit this time adding a pair of sandals rather than walking barefoot, contributed to him attracting little attention.

Traces of the Lykae King and the human girl still existed on the streets, weak as they were. They ranged from the whispers of the spirits stirred by the passing of supernatural beings amongst them to an assortment of faint scents. Enough to follow even if they didn’t much shorten the time needed to come across the one he was looking for. It gave him plenty of time for thought, comprehension, and time to take in his surroundings and acknowledge the city around him. He wasn’t a particularly frequent visitor here. But exceptions had to be made in line of his duty to his King and his people.

So now Rhaun was walking the streets of a residential area, following the trace of his liege, gradually getting to where his presence was most recent. He would not barge into a building or go so far as to disturb the peace here. But chances were high, that as soon as Garreth went out into the streets, he would be noticed. And then Rhaun would bring to his attention the need to tend to their true home