Grimm takes a liesurely walk just a little way behind them, wings cloaking him almost completely. With strides so much longer it's no rush to follow, though there is a distant, nagging feeling that he ought.
Perhaps the average bug might not notice something so subtle, but Troupe Master Grimm is acutely aware. He keeps his eyes down, thinking, and stays close. As they refamiliarise themselves, Grimm too is... familiarising.
He speeds back up to subtly close the distance again and glances at the dead Creeper as they pass. He has a feeling he knows what they half-thought they might see. His face is subtly downturned and his attention turned inward. He is barely in a position to lash out, not at someone who just loomed over him with the power of the Abyss. This, too, is frustrating.
He is rather more tense than he'd like. Never mind the rest - knowing so little is difficult to stand.
"Such is the manner, it is rare enough that fame precedes us," he probes conversationally. "I wonder what you know of me?" Did they choose their gift, or did she?
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Perhaps the average bug might not notice something so subtle, but Troupe Master Grimm is acutely aware. He keeps his eyes down, thinking, and stays close. As they refamiliarise themselves, Grimm too is... familiarising.
He speeds back up to subtly close the distance again and glances at the dead Creeper as they pass. He has a feeling he knows what they half-thought they might see. His face is subtly downturned and his attention turned inward. He is barely in a position to lash out, not at someone who just loomed over him with the power of the Abyss. This, too, is frustrating.
He is rather more tense than he'd like. Never mind the rest - knowing so little is difficult to stand.
"Such is the manner, it is rare enough that fame precedes us," he probes conversationally. "I wonder what you know of me?" Did they choose their gift, or did she?