[center][h2][color=6ecff6]I R I S[/color][/h2][/center]

[color=6ecff6]"Huh?"[/color]

Iris, broken out of her anxious reverie, turned over her shoulder with a jump at the mention of her name. Beneath her mask, a wan, relieved grin came to her face as she saw Cedar behind her. Even in her current kneeling position, they were almost of a height; she had no iea if that was intimidating for Cedar or not, but it made her feel happy to know that someone wasn't looming over her no matter what stage of [color=6ecff6]'parked on my ass'[/color] she was currently occupying. That comfort and relief was coming in [i]really[/i] handy at a time like this.

[color=6ecff6]"Yyyeah, actually. Kinda."[/color] She pulled one hand from her pocket and raised a closed fist up in greeting - then opened it, spinning the ring she'd discovered on the corpse in a circle on her palm. She stopped its motion long enough for Cedar to be able to give it a thorough twice-over before pocketing it again. The last thing Iris wanted was either of them to wind up with this freaky piece of crap on their finger and wind up like this poor screwball. "And then there's this."

She scooted to the right, boots making soft, wet scraping noises against the muck and soil of the alleyway. Her moving her tall, muscular frame gave Cedar a good look at what she had been examining when he arrived. The corpse's forearm was milky and wizened looking, its flabby, dead flesh growing even paler than it had when Iris reached him. It made the light scarring of a tattoo - and its shape - all the more obvious. Iris giggled to herself, a little nervously.

[color=6ecff6]"Maybeee he had a bad breakup,"[/color] she suggested, her voice playful despite everything. [color=6ecff6]"People get tats removed after those all the time."[/color]

[color=6ecff6][i]...yyyyeah, those breakups...wiiith the theocratic death cults. They really getcha every time.[/i][/color]

She kept staring at the healer's forearm, and the remaining imprint of a tree.