He stands upwind, and so the scent of someone approaching does not reach him. But that is only one sense, and his others are perfectly functional. So first his ears swivel, then his horned head as he glances to his 2 o'clock. Even in the dim light, his keen eyes find first the outline of the approaching stallion, then start to fill him in with blocks of color, shades, getting more and more detailed as he approaches. He hasn't met others in Novus, but even if he had the stallion would be unmistakable. Only greets him smoothly, with a compliment to boot. Favorite snake handler. Anonymous feels a tick in his chest, a physical sign that he likes the idea. He remains silent as the pet snake nears, feeling no need to rush conversation. The breeze swirls, bringing the scent of Only back toward him as the air fills his cloak. The assassin's eyes grow hard as the scent of blood wafts toward him, filling his nose and almost overwhelming him. His eyes glance over the snake, taking in the spray of blood that really seems to coat him from head to toe. Not even bothering to clean himself, it would seem; certain to attract attention. The assassin doesn't let anything on, remaining more or less stoic except for the hard look in his eye. "A quiet morning?" Anonymous muses, showing a sign of thinking over the question, his answer. "Oh, it's been quiet for me." He chuckles then, knowing that the carefully placed emphasis will disturb Only. How does he know? Just by the nature of his question, the inquisitive, hesitant approach that shows he is trying to pick the mind of the assassin. So the assassin steps closer, letting a knowing smile slip onto his handsome mug. As he turns his head, the slice on his left cheek shows; scabbed, but healing well. The slice gifted to him by Only. "Tell me, friend, what have you been up to, to leave you painted so?" A gleam in his eye, the sly manner of his voice are the only giveaways that perhaps Anonymous knows more than he lets on. But why admit it? That would take all the fun away. |