a brow quirks at the sight of the assassin wrapped in WHITE, the light fabric clinging to his muscles toned from a LIFETIME of training. her own tunic clung to her curves, skin slick with SWEAT and gloriously tanned from years spent training in the red desert. she moves with a FELINE grace, SWIFT and silent as a viper, as she peels the fabric from her face, freeing a mess of blonde hair.
“ I think you’ll find that I WON the race back from the oasis today. ” she may have been raised by silent assassins, but that didn’t mean she was going to abide by their ridiculous rules of NO TALKING. “ it was a VALIANT effort but I saw you stumble three quarters of the way back. ” the slightest misstep on his part, barely even noticeable to an UNTRAINED eye. though the SMUG expression on her face does little to ebb her ever growing EGO.
plotted started for Ilias @oflegendaries