[ and here she stands. the locket -- otherwise around her neck -- is still perched between her fingertips. as he rounds the corner, she snaps it shut and lets it fall upon the front of a tan-coloured leather coat. it isn't a modern coat; it lacks zippers and snaps and all the best parts of modern tailoring absent. and yet it would be hard to mistake her.
at her feet sits a peculiar pile: gloves; a hat; and a bastard sword. ]
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at her feet sits a peculiar pile: gloves; a hat; and a bastard sword. ]
Finally. Took you long enough.