[@Darkwatck01]

The hunter; a hound.
Tattoos branded the man as one of a few, and [i]none[/i] of them would deserve her audience; best left to spymasters, taskers and executioners, such dealings were taboo for herself to handle. This was, however, an unusual circumstance that set the two in unfortunately like-minded company. Their foe was not one that could be overcome with whispers and subterfuge, and Kaitra was, in some ways, glad that their meeting could be so fortuitously opportune. It was...not her idea of an ideal meeting, however. The tattoos marred their face to the point of irrelevance and the princess felt only shame and a brief sting of contempt for the reminder of her heritage's sordid history.
Who this man used to be apparently no longer mattered, and his revealing only further disappointed Kaitra as they were not beyond admittance of their resolve; a weapon, a puppet of darkness, a slave to a twisted and shallow justice spoken only in brief reference as if names would evoke their wrath.

Kaitra's eyes narrowed, a nostril tilting as to accentuate the will to frown upon seeing Nebel's face. She had no knowledge of whom she looked upon, but lessons of the occult and slights in reference to Isparia's hidden methods looked her dead in the eye, and she could only oh-so-slightly wince at the ugly truth of the realism behind the hollow eyes that looked back.

[i]Best[/i] friends...

[i]It[/i] spoke and then so simply turned to walk off, letting their wake impose itself upon the managers of the establishment. Kaitra followed, already having much to hold the nameless hunter accountable for even before they entered the meeting room.

She waited at the threshold, hearing the man work until his efforts ceased.
Her brow lowered and an understanding determination compelling her to toe the line, Kaitra shook her arms in a nervous manner, not at all truly keen on entering this lion's den. 
With herself not even being [i]actually[/i] invited, walking into an obvious trap seemed all too quaint. This was not the rational thought that she should have had when she stepped in and flinched ever so slightly from the slamming door and silence that pervaded the room. It was not so much how their motions made no noise, but how the armature musicians and conversations abruptly cut out that Kaitra did suddenly find herself tensely locked in this exchange with the nameless hunter and their guest.
Strangely, the man began to part with their armor. Tradition as it may seem, as they specifically made an effort in a way that implied that the princess is encouraged to mirror their method, she did.

[color=bc8dbf]"Ich bin sehr daran interessiert, was mit deinen Spielsachen passieren wird, wenn ich dir den Hals brechen sollte,"[/color] Kaitra slowly spoke, unbuckling the sides of her plate before pulling it off to the side in a swing, exposing the woven mithril surcoat which they unbuttoned as they hissed, [color=bc8dbf]"Ich hoffe du verstehst was ich vorhabe, falls du mich angreifst?"[/color]
She pulled the garment down enough to expose the mark on her shoulder as well as the left half of her bra in the process. A clean and straight scar ran from her shoulder to her collarbone, seeming recently healed. 

[color=bc8dbf]"Dein [i]Name[/i], Jäger!"[/color] Kaitra barked, taking a step towards the man, [color=bc8dbf]"Dies ist der Punkt, an dem Sie mir Ihren Namen sagen oder Ihre Absichten, ein Attentäter zu sein, offenbaren!"[/color]