[center][h3][color=C0392B]Rudolf Shilage[/color][/h3][/center]

[color=c0392b]"We're of like mind in that, believe me."[/color] a grumble floated in from two paces ahead, as the supposed chief benefactor of this four-hour diversion slipped the signet ring hanging from a cord 'round his neck back under his scarf and collar. Emblazoned with the small engraving of a dragon betwixt gnarled roots, the blued steel was a pointedly rare sight[sup]1[/sup]— but it seemed to be ample failsafe for proving his identity, after being five years and change missing. [color=c0392b]"He was pretty coy with the specifics, beyond my needing to show up."[/color]

The warrior's gear, burns, and scars had earned him a thoroughly skeptical eyeballing. If Rudolf had followed up on any one of those impulses he'd had in his exile to throw that old gift from his mother away, this might not have gone so smoothly— their only ticket in would have been Esben, who seemed to be no great trouble to verify. Maybe his word might've then been enough for the angry stray cat he had in tow.

He glanced over his shoulder, towards two actually angry actual cats, meeting the eyes of the elder for a moment— the younger too busy shooting Galahad a stink eye, as one arm stubbornly hung limp at her side. Izayoi was bristly as ever, but with the knowledge of the situation at hand in the big picture well on the forefront of all their minds, he couldn't blame her. To tell the truth, feeling each hour drag on by as they peeled off-course had started to wear on [i]him[/i], too.

He huffed, a cloud of mist blooming before him, before facing front once more as the gates began to open for them. 

[color=c0392b]"Ostensibly, the story is that I'm [i]supposed[/i] to be quietly warding with the Viscount given my weak constitution— And showing up after four or five years will 'prove' that I didn't run off and die while he was nominally responsible for my wellbeing. He's been stressed to high heaven about reporting me missing— It's a poor look to [i]lose[/i] your sickly charge, I imagine. So, if all goes well, we'd at least have this estate as a potential redoubt, should things get really hairy further into the country. You know, the way they have in the past two. Beyond [i]that[/i]..."[/color]

He grimaced as he stepped forward, the first into the grounds proper. Much like the frost-dusted winter kales and turnips scattered along the surrounding farmlands, not far away from the stony approach were earthware pots capped with white— pale, hardy primroses stubbornly peeking through the chill in spots of pale yellow and lavender.[sup]2[/sup]

His timbre dropped, confusion and suspicion mounting.

[color=c0392b]"'Some things for both of us'. I have no idea what it could be. Any guesses?"[/color]

He nudged the one-day Baron with an elbow, both his arms back in working order.

[color=c0392b]"Something materially worthwhile, to keep her off our backs?"[/color]

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[*][sub]1. TL Note: He was scared Galahad would recognize it. It comes from the Midgar side of the family— the [i]more recently[/i]-Midgar side of the family. Fun fact, his other two shithead brothers have their own versions of this thing. It's a minor miracle he kept it around. Probably a lot of unresolved issues there.[/sub]
[*][sub]2. Imagine how good a [i]florist[/i] you could have been, if only you'd stuck to the plan. You'd know everything about those dainty flowers, and never come [i]close[/i] to being able to say you fought a Behemoth enough to earn a trophy on the kill. Or say that you overcame the defenses of Leviathan [s]with Ga[/s] with Gungnir. Aren't you [i]glad[/i], young man, that I've put you on an [i]exciting[/i] path instead? Giving you the violence you yearn for? Look, you're a warrior in a garden, and for once the phrase actually applies to the subject in a clear one-to-one. Just remember to thank me some time.[/sub]
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