@blightsbite
For some reason, Octavo finds himself drawn back to Crimson Lane, even though he knows he can't make money here. Perhaps it's the crowds. They always enjoy his music, and that alone lifts his spirits.
Vanth is not difficult to spot, pallid as a ghost in the waning light. Octavo sends the Lute away the moment he catches sight of the other man. He starts to stand up from the edge of a fountain he'd been perched on, but hesitates.
Was attempting to apologize even worth it? If he considered the outcomes, either Vanth would stay mad at him, possibly pop him like a grape with those shadow hands of his, in which case that'd be another death but otherwise nothing would really have changed. On the other hand, he might be forgiven. And... besides, it would be the right thing to do.
Sighing to himself, he slips through the crowd, calling out. "Vanth. Wait. I need to speak to you."
