Evening
Borders.
Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.
******************
As the evening sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the border of the Critic Arley, two figures emerged into the dimly lit clearing.
There was Theodore a powerful man, with his regal stature evident in the way he carried himself, his long locks of gold hair cascading down his back as it was no longer in the confines of a rubber band.
The other, Conan, a knight, his dark blond hair tousled by the gentle breeze that swept through the area.
"I do not think they should be any-"
"Shut up Conan, listen" Theodore pointed out, inviting Conan to put his ears in the ground.
The two have been parading around this side of the city borders after a report from a guard of suspicious movements.
Conan scoffed. "I hear serenity, I thought you should be missing your wife now, let us-"
