[He's hard to miss. He's seated upon a mare whose coat is a deep, shining black, waiting for her arrival, there at the treeline. Lucinda might be able to parse that their travels will be a little lengthier than their prior delve into the Vale's woodland, where they had taken the path by foot. Whether or not this bodes ill is up to her to decide.]
That you did.
[And while he should be impressed, the line of Weir's brow is darkened, his expression as serious as she's used to seeing. He considers her for a moment, waiting for her to draw closer and then extends a leather-gloved hand. Offering assistance up, to share the saddle and to take a seat behind him.]
no subject
That you did.
[And while he should be impressed, the line of Weir's brow is darkened, his expression as serious as she's used to seeing. He considers her for a moment, waiting for her to draw closer and then extends a leather-gloved hand. Offering assistance up, to share the saddle and to take a seat behind him.]
Come. I want to show you something.