[center][color=gray][b]Casimir Volk[/b][/color][/center]

Casimir calmly looked between the butler and the man standing at his side, deciding to say nothing further. Some might grow uncomfortable at the stretching silence, but he was used to much more stressful situations. His eyes darted to the right as a thin, stately man, dressed in rich clothing leisurely walked right past the butler and into the residence as if he owned the place. Maybe he [i]was[/i] the owner? Highly unlikely, Casimir thought, as the man standing at the door would have at least greeted his master if that were the case.

Whoever the owner of the estate was, it was clear that he hadn’t given his butler instructions on who to expect, as the man kept hesitating. True, only a few moments had passed and two strangers did just show up on his door unannounced, but since his master was hosting these so-called revolutionaries Casimir had expected him to act somewhat swifter. He didn’t mind standing in the cold and the sleet - well maybe a little bit - but the paranoia drilled into him back in Beakhaven was starting to gnaw at him. 

Two men, obviously not from this neighbourhood, awkwardly standing in front of a manor, while a third one just walked in? Considering the almost empty streets, a patrol could see them from a mile off, not to mention any nosy neighbours who might be peeking out from the nearby windows even now. Was the butler even aware of what was about to happen in this estate? No, they couldn’t be that careless…he hoped. 

He willed himself not to fidget or move from his spot until invited inside, but every second out in the open seemed to last an eternity…