Samantha’s steps were soundless, the fur on her heels avidly swallowing their breath. Her walk had the hidden grace of a killer, each step taking her just far enough so as to not let the cloak covering her shoulders crease treacherously over the handles of cold steel. A salty breeze blew across the streets, lifting dust and pieces of scribbled thoughts worth no more than that into the air. Her pale-blonde hair flared to life as the divine breath or nature reached her, locks shining white in the light of the beacons, making her look ethereal and unreal. Unreal was also the ruby swaying gently on her neck, hidden beneath her cloak, ashamed of its flawed nature. It lacked the pink hue of the best of its kin, or even the purple one of the more common ones. Instead it was near-black, tainted only by a tinge of red the colour of dying blood. However, even when hidden its presence could not be masked to the well-attuned senses. Its light pulse of power would confuse said vigilant observer like the beating of a second heart…

As the dark navy cloak settled calmly in place, so did Samantha. Her steps died out slowly like the wind as the stranger who was no stranger came close enough for silent words to reach. A ghost of a smell tickled her nose, one she’d felt oh-so-often, one she hadn’t expect to find right here and now. Her eyes the colour of molten steel shifted slightly to look over his garments, looking for signs of his recent sin. There were none, a job clean done. Only then did a light bow travel though her body, lowering her head and arching her back, but only slightly, just enough to not raise suspicion by any on-lookers. 

“I see death has released you, Master T.” Her voice whispered in a sigh. She knew his name well, even if they hadn’t often interacted, and she knew it had no T in its initials. She also knew, however, that there was no Master Nazeem Thorne anymore. And even though she would still need time to fully commit to the new Master, she was ready to give him a chance to prove his right to be such. Browsing shortly through the folds under the cloak she took out a small purse full of a months’ worth of silver and offered it discreetly to Simeon, finally lifting her gaze to meet his eyes. “A small gift, for new beginnings. And may they be successful.”