The night was calm.
Jefferson Gray stood alone, on the roof of Eliza's shop, staring absently with eyes so tired they could be mistaken for bruised, over the town of Trollsbane. He watched as a steady breeze swept through the tree's, accompanying the townsfolk that wandered the streets; some hurrying around as if they had some place important to be, whilst others dithered, merely getting on with their everyday routine' lives. He had much on his mind, though there was something in particular that seemed to bother him.
"Velisai..."
He had heard the rumors of how the Legitimate Businessmen Association, had 'taken care' of her, though now the rumours had seemed to show a likely truth, in the form of Jefferson's raven returning with blood-soaked feet, and no reply. She was missing..
"... Blood equals blood..." echoed in Jefferson's mind. The unwritten rule. He probably wouldn't have usually cared, the 'amateur assassins' had never bothered him.. Though in this instance he held a common interest, and now, his 'business transaction' would have to be placed on an indefinite hiatus. An old anger was awoken.
"...Ye have my attention... 'Legitimate Businessmens Association'."
Jefferson extended his arm, his trusty raven flying neatly upon it then. Smiling to himself, he left again without a trace.
Was the hunter to become the hunted?
-Blood equals blood-
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