♔; ᴀᴛᴛᴇʀʀɪᴀ-ᴛʜᴇ-ᴛᴀᴄᴛɪᴄɪᴀɴ.
The trek back from their last fight against the Risen was a tiresome one, indeed; and one that was not particularly easy, in the case of Virion. His sudden, peculiar entrance out onto the field was not one that was taken lightly. No matter how noble he professed his intentions to be, no matter how many pretty words he spoke, the eye of suspicion was cast upon him -- and by many a person, no less. The fact was overwhelming, of course, but it did not stop the noble from holding his head high, and walking the grounds as he would in any other situation.
The guise of a smile had always been his "favorite", after all.
It was no different this afternoon. The Shepherds had finally set up camp, and with such sparing amounts of love to be had for him in that moment, the archer set off to train. Quiver slung over one shoulder, bow gripped in his dominant hand, Virion made his way from the camp to the nearby field designated for training and the likes. And he would have made it there uninterrupted, had the (female) tactician not come into his sights.
He'd held virtually no conversations with the woman, and had only heard talk of her strategial prowess in passing. Suffice it to say he was curious, which in turn --
"ᴍʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ lady, forgive my interruption --"
-- led to this: his calling out to her, changing his course so as to head directly towards her. Once close enough, his lips would form a slightly coquettish smile, of sorts; just before they part to speak once more. "ᴡᴇ'ᴠᴇ not yet had the pleasure of formally meeting; quite the pity, if you'd ask me. Perhaps you could spare a moment of your time, so as to fix that?"
