"Your wards are impressive, despite the..." Acarus gestures at the canvas walls with an elegant sweep of his hand, "limitations of this structure."
He moves with eerie vampire grace, inspecting the interior of our strategy tent while maintaining a calculated distance from both Lisa and me. His golden hair catches the lantern light, making him look like he's glowing from within, only adding to his strange aura.
"You've been working hard," he adds, his gaze sweeping over the papers stacked off to the side of a table.
"Thanks. Necessity is the mother of obsessive warding." I tug my coat tighter around me. The stove's keeping this tent warm, but the temperature's dropped after exiting and re-entering.
There's something strange about him, Grimoire mumbles. Beyond the obvious vampire traits.
He's been strange from the start. Nothing about him has ever made complete sense.
