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

It was a blessing his face was covered, that only he would be privy to the scowl falling from his face and the nonplussed blink that broke his stare through the snow at the crest of the hill, awaiting the first sign of movement until just now. The air was thick with anticipation as details continued to roll in on the [i]true[/i] nature of this Valheimr deployment— and that falling expression quickly began to twist back towards a grimace.

One mystrel. Red hair. Bastard thief.

Where had he heard [i]this[/i] story before?[sup]1[/sup] 

He pulled away a half step, checking the imprint he left in the snow. Were it not for the mission already on all their plates, Rudolf would have quite happily tugged on this thread to try and bring back something substantial for their miles-away mage to work with. More than just [color=c0392b][i]"sounds like Zeke made his way down here too, and he's got the usual suspects after him"[/i][/color]— after this, it was just going to be a rolling assumption wherever they went.

But diversions would throw a wrench in everything, the exact same once this information had revealed they still had a chance to dodge. Sure enough, his tracks were going to be deep, a consequences of his arms and armor— if this hunting party were to crest the ridge, it seemed a safe assumption that Rudolf, at least, would have his trail spotted. That'd be a problem if he dove for cover in Elly and the rest's wakes, but if the jig wasn't actually already up the way they thought it was...

He held his left hand up, pointing towards the woods opposite the scatterplot of ambush points their division had set up, and then tightly circled his finger around— planning to bound away from where the bulk of their raiding party was, make the best use of those distinct tracks as he could, then return to the group after he'd left the trail of breadcrumbs sufficiently out of the way. Chisato, at least, would be able to guess at the lynchpin of how he planned to break the trail off and not lead these hapless dozen manhunters right back into the campsite— it was her Exit materia that he had been using as reference for shadowstep this whole time, after all.[sup]2[/sup]

Two breaths later, he set off at a brisk trot, melting into the gloom. With any luck, this would all just be an exercise in theory, and the patrol would drift the other way while they kept good and quiet.

So, Ithar, if you're reading this,  
[hr][hr]
[list]
[*][sub]1. If [i]I[/i] were Miina Malina, I'd chalk this up to my brother deciding to fuck with me specifically. Hells, if I were Miina Malina's brother, this is how I'd fuck with Miina Malina specifically. An endless trail of breadcrumbs— actually, this gives me an idea.[/sub]
[*][sub]2. Artistic integrity has been debated and relitigated on the subject of reference since long before he picked up the pencil. In a pinch, I cottoned onto her performance against the Ruby Weapon as, "probably the easiest mnemonic for a rock brain". Naturally, I'm right.[/sub]
[/list]