[center][h2][color=OliveDrab]Verena[/color][/h2][/center] [hr] [sup]Direct Mention: [@Stormyx][/sup] When Isai pushed his way closer towards the Emperor and the Blades, producing quill to record the unfolding events, Verena knew to give him space. While normally bound at the hip due to her manner of employment, years of working as assistant to the castle administrator in Cheydinhal taught her when to give others space as they worked. And so, she collected what little belongings she had, slinging the satchel of essentials over her shoulder. One slender hand slipped under the leather lip of the satchel, confirming with a simple touch that her herbal pouch, and her personal pouch were all in order. Not that she had anything of value for the guards to pilfer. Her steps had slowed, bumping into those beside her as she muttered an empty-hearted apology in return. Pale green eyes swept over everyone, perhaps lingering too long to the point one might accuse her of staring. Verena had a habit of this, a nameless habit, but a habit nonetheless. One where she could tune out the world around her, the sounds muffling, staring but not seeing. That was until Deia spoke, her very words raising the hair on her forearms, like a whisper that had been blown over her skin. [i]“We are not alone.”[/i] Here, Verena blinked, breaking that trance-like state she had entered, and focused her attention upon the woman beside her. Her pink tongue slid over her lips as she wet them, eyes lingering on Deia’s own lips before trailing up to gaze into her dull grey eyes. [color=OliveDrab]“There is something… in the shadows?”[/color] Verena breathed, her words difficult to determine if she asked a question or made a statement. Her hand brushed against Deia as she shifted her weight. There it was again. That [i]jolt[/i] of sensation that ran up her spine, almost making her toes curl.