The night deepens with a breath of winter, carrying with it the hints of a storm blowing in from the sea and the taint of restlessness that follows every battle, no matter how small. The scent of rain and blood mixed in the air, making Yeon scrunch her nose, draw her bamboo stripe hat further down over her face.
Not that her face gave anything away, most of all not her expression. Being a shadow had taught her the art of switching between conspicuous and inconspicuous personalities at her advantage. It was one of the converted arts, which required years of dedicated learning. If she did not intend them to, one would never manage to recall her face, or any distinct feature of hers that would pin an encounter back to her.
But, at the moment, what her imminent knowledge had pressed her to do, would change that for worse.
