ooc.
So sorry for the wait on this, life has been hectic. I also took liberties of where her walking staff was, hope that’s okay!
ic.
There were quite a few things that the lithe female could do to try to relieve her mind of this utter boredom that had settled upon her – she could play her violin, compose a piece, work on one of the many unfinished pieces that were already started in her head, she could explore this gigantic land that she had found herself in... really, the options were endless, but Sherlock knew without even trying that it would be no good. She was in one of her moods, and it was always so pointless to try to get out of it by herself. Dahmer generally helped a bit, always trying to be helpful and tried to give her mind something to focus on; however, he wasn’t here and she doubted he’d appreciate her coming back to him, complaining to him that she was bored. The whole point of being out here, in this forgotten cemetery, was to give him space.
Time passed slowly as her head roared with boredom but the sound of shuffling feet and a sudden flap of wings found its way into Sherlock’s attention. She didn’t move, just remained where she was and listened. A faint tapping noise reached her ears, the sound of wood on stone, but not a series of tapping that carried a beat, a tap that would hit the same stone once or twice and then move on. The sound eventually stopped and Sherlock contemplated pushing herself up to take a look to see what the source of the sound was when a flapping of wings caught her attention, and she threw her glance upwards into the tree she was currently under. A small falcon was perched just above her, looking down at her while she looked up, and it suddenly began to chirp excitedly.
Figuring that the falcon was the companion of the owner of the mysterious tapping noise, Sherlock finally moved in what seemed like ages and pushed herself up. A tall grey female stood by one of the many tombstones, her body facing Sherlock’s general direction. Sherlock took in the way that the female wasn’t looking directly at her, with her head slightly angled as she tested the air, and saw the wooden staff laying safely on the ground within easy grabbing distance. Ah. Now everything made sense. You’re blind, but not from birth... something happened to cause it. Interesting.
If Dahmer were here, a little voice inside Sherlock’s head said, he would have been appalled and informed her that she was being rude and then apologize afterwards for his friends behaviour.
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