Peipain’s first minutes stepping into the city were frantic, if only on an internal level. To anyone passing by, she was quiet and mostly collected, if a bit tense while her eyes darted around her new surroundings. Inside, she could hear little else than her own voice, alternating between calling out for her lost mistress and cursing the beings who would dare to rip them apart.
To add insult to injury, she found herself armed with only scraps of wood, shaped to mimic her knives. They would pierce and cut if necessary, yes, but it would be far from efficient... A problem she would consider more when she was forced to cross that bridge.
For now, there was only one option: continue her search.
Hours later, one might think she would have calmed down from her initial fury. On the surface, she certainly still appeared as collected as ever. That is, until the sound of footsteps in the dead silence of the street made her abruptly wheel about, wooden excuse of a knife drawn.
When there was nothing, she felt a frown cross her lips. She should not be this easy to startle, no matter the status of her master. Slowly, she lowered the weapon again, sighing.
“Ailane-sama...” For a moment, her worries and concern were worn plainly across her face. She was already exhausting herself, and making little progress to show for it. She almost had to laugh at herself. What poor performance was this?
One she hoped to forget soon, if she was so exhausted as to think she was hearing Ailane’s voice scolding a citizen nearby--
Wait. There it was again.. that wasn’t her imagination, was it?
Never could Peipain recall running so fast. She didn’t even stop to completely assess the situation, no. The moment she saw that familiar mass of white hair, she simply placed herself a few paces behind, knife drawn once again. Relieved as she was to see her mistress once again, there were more pressing matters at hand.
“Is this gentleman bothering you, Ailane-sama?”