Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20190114001113/@comment-30014014-20190125060405

Prad has his hands on a piece of armor. Knowing not the origin of it, he simply observes the appearances surrounding it. Being a seasoned courier, holding fragile things such as this is one of the few techniques he can carry without fail.

His back is doused with the weigh of eyes from elsewhere feeding the visions of his spectator. Eyes of things watching...the new arrivals have spurned a bit of curiosity from his violet gazers. They watch them act as they do from afar, ever tethered to both Prad and his 'host'.

Was the young man to turn to where his back is, he would witness the man in the wall at crossed arms watching where the entities known as the hound's cohort walk about. No words, no movement, yet he can feel his watching through the strange drifters that peered through along him.