Some people have an identity.
If you guessed that Thal had been thinking about the Queen of Torchline's daggers, you'd be right. Ever since their little 'spar,' she'd considered going to Dygra to enhance her own, but then another idea came to mind, one a little more fitting. What if she just stole them? The concept had been playing in her mind for some time. Plots, schemes, and methods all taking form. It was risky to steal from the leader of her largest place of business, but she didn't plan on the woman ever finding out it was her. After the strange 'fortune,' the pirate captain was inclined to proceed with caution. Yet when she caught the woman's blonde hair unexpectedly trapsing through the Inner Quarter, Thal was pleasantly surprised, and the opportunity was too enticing to refuse.
Pushing off the wall she'd been leaning against, she tucked a strand of stray hair under her hood and melted into the crowd. Her heavily black-clad appearance wasn't uncommon amongst the cold-averse Ancients, so people barely paid her a glance, letting her drift by like a ghostly spirit. Her blue eyes were hidden beneath the crest of the hood, but they never left Flora, scanning for weaknesses or exposed targets.
Pushing off the wall she'd been leaning against, she tucked a strand of stray hair under her hood and melted into the crowd. Her heavily black-clad appearance wasn't uncommon amongst the cold-averse Ancients, so people barely paid her a glance, letting her drift by like a ghostly spirit. Her blue eyes were hidden beneath the crest of the hood, but they never left Flora, scanning for weaknesses or exposed targets.
I have an alibi.
I have a shadow self.
I have a shadow self.
Thalassa
