It isn’t often that Falke ventures beyond Stormbreak proper; most people prefer (and in fact, the Fixer does too) to come to him if they need treatment - but this is a special circumstance, isn’t it?
There’s a demigod in the house.
Using the pretense of his weekly Dragoons visit to mask his curiosity, Falke walks without his cane towards the city gates; his hip finally shows some return to its normal state post-hot-springs bath, but it’s still on the upward side of normal this morning. Humming a nameless tune to himself, the Fixer appears to be a casual figure ambling nonchalantly through the people, one hand in a coat pocket, the other on the strap of his small messenger-style bag. No glasses this morning, but his beard is rather full and professorial-looking lately.
Falke pauses as he reaches the gates, peering up with his eyes shielded against the crisp Leafchange sun, its brightness reflecting off the gate guardians. A thrill of anticipation creeps through him, perhaps putting way too much hope in a chance meeting.
There’s a demigod in the house.
Using the pretense of his weekly Dragoons visit to mask his curiosity, Falke walks without his cane towards the city gates; his hip finally shows some return to its normal state post-hot-springs bath, but it’s still on the upward side of normal this morning. Humming a nameless tune to himself, the Fixer appears to be a casual figure ambling nonchalantly through the people, one hand in a coat pocket, the other on the strap of his small messenger-style bag. No glasses this morning, but his beard is rather full and professorial-looking lately.
Falke pauses as he reaches the gates, peering up with his eyes shielded against the crisp Leafchange sun, its brightness reflecting off the gate guardians. A thrill of anticipation creeps through him, perhaps putting way too much hope in a chance meeting.
FALKE
