[ Hey, wait, where are you going? I could use a man of your talents!
it's the fading words of the shopkeeper that stick out in isaac's ears, scoffing as he unclasps his cloak and starts making his way out of the marketplace. he draws his hands under the cloak to avoid any potential hand contact as he flees, trying to think why this must be happening. the seller he spoke with did not make him drink anything, no, but did a splash of whatever vial he was waving at him touch his skin? he feels foolish and too seen, a dangerous thing when he has been cut off from his magic. a dagger is still a dagger, but isaac is not prepared to be run out of town less than a day since arriving.
he molds into the crowds, makes distance between him and the scene of his incident, then escapes out. the exit is not far judging by the signage and maybe he can--
his thoughts are stopped as he gets past a couple people and then sees a familiar man just some distance from the exit. that distance is not clear, between the people looking at the stands to the sides and those that are walking the path to get to their next destination, but the familiar visage of his old master's son is a striking flash among the flow of people.
and he's looking right at him. ]
Shit.
[ isaac curses low and annoyed under his breath, and turns to weave back into the crowds he was trying to get out of. there must be another way out of this market, and the sea of people he dives into will make excellent obstacles. ]
no subject
it's the fading words of the shopkeeper that stick out in isaac's ears, scoffing as he unclasps his cloak and starts making his way out of the marketplace. he draws his hands under the cloak to avoid any potential hand contact as he flees, trying to think why this must be happening. the seller he spoke with did not make him drink anything, no, but did a splash of whatever vial he was waving at him touch his skin? he feels foolish and too seen, a dangerous thing when he has been cut off from his magic. a dagger is still a dagger, but isaac is not prepared to be run out of town less than a day since arriving.
he molds into the crowds, makes distance between him and the scene of his incident, then escapes out. the exit is not far judging by the signage and maybe he can--
his thoughts are stopped as he gets past a couple people and then sees a familiar man just some distance from the exit. that distance is not clear, between the people looking at the stands to the sides and those that are walking the path to get to their next destination, but the familiar visage of his old master's son is a striking flash among the flow of people.
and he's looking right at him. ]
Shit.
[ isaac curses low and annoyed under his breath, and turns to weave back into the crowds he was trying to get out of. there must be another way out of this market, and the sea of people he dives into will make excellent obstacles. ]