There was a snap and a rustle of leaves as a mass of bright red, curly hair and the head it was attached to burst forth from one of the leafy boughs of the outlying trees near the Circus grounds. Blaire settled herself into a sitting position, leaning against the pale grey trunk and tilting her head back, nose in the air. She took in a deep breath and scowled, making a gagging noise.
Blaire squinted at the brightly coloured tents with a look akin to disgust. She glanced down towards her similarly bright-haired brother, calling out lowly in a thick Scottish dialect. "I don't know if ye can smell it too, Malcom, but it -reeks- o' Hunters over there."
She lifted up a pale hand, pointing idly to the massive main tent. "Silver, smoke, and the blood o' thousands. Nae other way to figure out who's a Hunter and who isn't, using yer nose. Are ye comin' up here to have a look, or must I drag ye up in this tree?" she asked, grinning.
“Hunters? I thought I caught their scent… maybe it wasn't a wise idea to come here in the first place,” he responded cautiously. Malcolm, like most supernatural beings, didn't have a good… relationship… with the Hunters. At least their hate for them was justified, while vice versa it’s because they were just different from everyone else.
“And I will come up on my own accord. The McKennen Clan wouldn't let me hear the end of it if they heard my little sister had to drag me up a tree, would they? It would look bad on my record,” he added, placing his gun back into its holster on his belt before climbing the tree, the occasional snapping of branches being heard as he climbed up.
Upon reaching the top of the leafy boughs of the outlying trees, he narrows his eyes towards the Circus as he gently ruffles Blaire’s fiery red hair, much like his own, in a playful manner. Scowling after a few seconds he proceeds to place himself on a different branch, as their weight combined would most likely make one snap, with his gaze focused upon his sister.
"Well, now yer up here, I dinnae want t'be!" she chuckles, getting her hair ruffled. Smiling up at her brother briefly, her gaze snaps back to the circus grounds curiously. "Now, here's the plan...We go in, find who's in charge, an' figure out how to throw those blokes off our trail." Blaire nods firmly, clearly not having enough foresight to figure out the majority of issues that could arise from such an idiotic plan.
"Oi, can ye hit one o' them from over here? If they got out? Then again, we might end up hittin' one o' our new coworkers and that would be -very- awkward..." mused Blaire, rubbing her chin.
Malcolm chuckles as he scratches his chin, pondering on her question. "I reckon I would have a good chance at hitting something at this distance. How about you go down there and put an apple on your head so I can get my eye in and make sure?" he asks, grinning as he carefully makes his way down the tree. "Let's go and find out who's in charge then, but let me do the talking this time around. I still have memories of you getting us both in trouble a while back when you did the talking."
"That was -one time-, and how was I s'posed to know they were policemen?" sighed Blaire. She twisted her body a little, snatching a final peek down at the circus before disappearing down the branches. Her hand shot out, grabbing the lower branch before she fell flat on her face in the dirt. Blaire looked across the beaten path, glanced up at Malcom, waved, and started jogging down the path towards the Circus.
"OI?! WE'RE LOOKIN' TO SEE THE MANAGER!" Hollered Blaire. 'Subtle' doesn't even seem to comply with Blaire's dictionary.