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A creature like Caspa could have waited forever if she chose. Her unmoving flesh could have melted away leaving nothing but a sentinel skeleton, still half-pressed against the wooden doorframe. Once she'd made a commitment, even to nothing more than an empty vigil with uncertain results, there was nowhere that self-will could not drive her. Knowing this, she chose her pledges wisely. But she did not have long to wait today. Even as she started to notice the shadows the lengthening day was slowly dragging across the facing building, which would give her something to watch if this was to be a prolonged situation, a far more fascinating movement was made within her field of vision. A pale amber fur framed by darker bindings of cloth, expansive and dotted with bloody occult marks. Sinister, but he was hesitant and alone. Much of an age with herself, perhaps, although noticeably also a meeting of two bloods, his wolf side was stronger than hers: as he probably was, too, and taller. Caspa did not flinch a muscle. She did not have the training of a hunter. Her food was only what she found or was given, that lay already lifeless: it was not given to her breed of pilgrim to kill the innocent: prey, plant or person. She was a scavenger, and as such, she knew herself to be clumsy and spontaneous in her movements at times in a way a student of the stalking way must know how to be. Her instincts were of course intact, which lessened the disadvantage, but Caspa would not take the risk. She would not move at all, and thus guarantee silence.
Her black eye drained of colour or even light drank his red sunlit gaze in greedily, the golden fur surrounding reminding her of a young prince she'd left at home, but there was no familiarity in his features otherwise. The trail had been similar to the two Salsolans she knew, but perhaps it was just because he'd travelled through similar lands. Now, though, she thought there was too much resemblance for this to be so. Who was this traveller, so far out of his way here - and was he here on business? And if so, with who? She was glad of her hood casting a shadow over her face, because she was staring at him so intently she was sure he must sense it. But she was not provided with any kind of answer: the man was possessive of his intentions and refused to reward her observations, by doing nothing whatsoever. He seemed alert, and she realised after a few moments he must have caught her scent, although his eyes had not found hers yet. Now the dilemma was whether to reveal herself sooner or later, for she saw no fear in the face of the other that might have preceded a parting of their ways. If he did not wish to avoid a confrontation, he must have a reason to question her presence, in the same way she wished to question his. Perhaps this would go easier and quicker all around if she relented and withdrew her momentary subterfuge-based advantage. Still, Caspa was loath to reveal herself and her mind ticked over trying to find a way to retain the element of secrecy. If she could double back and confuse her trail, he would not be able to follow and find her... and she would be able to carry on watching at a distance. There was no way to do this in front of his eyes, of course. Those lustrous lights would have to be turned. She had only one idea, and it would have to do, before time and circumstances pressed further and the choice was snatched away. Caspa groped with her right hand, the one hidden by solid wall from any outside perspective. She found a loose piece of plaster, and hefted it, learning its shape and weight. This was the one thing she could do better than anybody she knew. Not moving anything but her fingers and wrist, she flicked the lump of masonry diagonally in front of her body and through the door to arc across the street and rattle successfully - she hoped - against a teasingly empty house's facade.
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