His greeting immediately ricocheted her mind back to the last time they had crossed paths, weeks ago now. Broken twilight streets, myths of word and pen, Ahren was some kind of will-o'-the-wisp that evening, startlingly present and magically alluring at the same time. Now, with her eyes allowed to soak up the sight of a bound and broken man, crazed by the half-light, he was anything but such a tale. Her chest tightened and pulled towards him, bringing Poe to kneel down before him there.
The jingle of colourful plastic beads hanging from several angles along her body looked and sounded far too childish all of a sudden, with the severity of the situation settling into her flesh. One hand silenced the worst of them, and she lifted the other to touch his shoulder. "Oh, Ahren," she murmured softly, maybe even regretfully. "What happened to you?" The door groaned as gravity slowly leaned into it, saved only by an outstretched tail.
