[h3]Central Yharnam, Upper Cathedral Ward, the Lumenflower Gardens[/h3]
Vicar Harold smiled [color=gray]warmly[/color] at Morgraine's words as he continued his approach, arms slowly lowering back into a resting position. His [color=gray]light-brown[/color] eyes had a [color=gray]kind, almost loving[/color] expression that spoke of the sheer depth of the [color=gray]devotion[/color] this man felt for her, and indeed, all of his subjects. This was the highest-ranking official in all of Yharnam, the de facto ruler of not only the city, but the surrounding lands as well, and it was not surprising that he had been chosen; the sheer intensity of his [color=gray]charisma[/color] made his presence almost overwhelming.

Beside Morgraine, Dietrich lowered his head as he moved his sword from its perch atop his shoulder, placing it tip-down into the floor in front of himself and gripping it with both hands before lowering himself to one knee, effectively offering his sword to the vicar in a tremendous show of respect and submission.
Harold quickly and dismissively waved a hand at Dietrich, barely even looking at the First Hunter, as he kept smiling at Morgraine.
“I do not, no,” he responded to her question as to whether he had grown the garden himself. The flowers, all of their blossoms [color=gray]facing their side of the garden[/color], seemed to shine even more brilliantly than before with an almost silver-like sheen, like an entire field of small full moons. “These were left behind by the old Healing Church five years ago, and grew and survived long before I came to Yharnam. They are called lumenflowers. You are fortunate in your timing; they only bloom at night, and are the most beautiful when there is no moon.” He [color=gray]smiled softly[/color]. “This is my favorite place in the city. I like to be here, speaking to the lumenflowers. They are so... understanding.”
His gaze lowered in thought for a moment before shaking his head, chuckling to himself. “Ah, but I am too used to talking to plants, I suppose. You have better things to do than listening to me chat about my hobbies. Tell me, Morgraine: [color=gray][B]what do you think about me[/B][/color]?”

[color=gray]Through it all, Morgraine has a very faint sense that there is something strange about this place, though the feeling is so fleeting that it could easily be dismissed without a second thought. Perhaps if she was more [I]insightful[/I] about the secrets of the world, she would be able to interpret what she feels more accurately.[/color]