[h3]Tour de Rouge, Fields[/h3]
	“Well,” Veronica said with a shrug. “If you say so. Do you need luck like that in Pinura? I’ve heard that it’s a tough place to-” She was cut off by the cart stopping, followed distressed neighing of the cart’s horses and the crunch of something impacting hard against the cart’s wooden frame. Serena and Veronica locked eyes for a moment before they slid off the back of the cart. Serena grabbed her mask while Veronica put on her helmet. A few drawn-out, tense seconds passed before the source of the disturbance revealed himself, planting a foot on top of the crates that had previously cut off their view of the front of the cart.

	Though the parasol the man held above his head blocked all traces of sunlight, the magenta glow in his right eye helped illuminate him somewhat. Long, golden locks of hair streamed down from his head, highlighting his beautiful features and pale skin while flowing over his left eye and ending at his chest. He wore black, tight clothing that hugged at his shapely form and toned limbs. His long legs ended in a pair of black high-heeled boots, contributing to an impressive 6’11” stature that made even Veronica feel somewhat intimidated. A cape flowed down his right shoulder, black on the backside and the same shade of magenta as his eye on the inward side. In his gloved right hand he held his parasol, and in the left, he held the cart driver by the neck, partially covering two small puncture wounds still dripping with blood that soaked into his glove. He looked down at the group and smiled, a fang retreating behind his lips.

	“Would you sweeties be willing to help me with something?” He asked with mock innocence. “Is there anything on my clothes? My face, perhaps? Maybe even in my hair? I don’t like to consider myself a messy eater, but…” He trailed off, the glow fading from his eyes as he disdainfully threw the cart driver down to the two women. Veronica caught him, making sure that he was still breathing before carefully setting him down and focusing her gaze back on the man. Serena tensed into a fighting stance as she donned her mask and held her naginata forwards, that ice cold look returning to her eyes as she stared the assailant down.

	“Let’s just say I’ve been craving some of those infamous Choral rations for quite some time,” The man continued playfully, slowly and suggestively running a newly freed hand through his hair. “Shall we?”