It's been a long time since you left Nanda Parbat and the League of Assassins. A long time since you've dealt with the bloodshed that typically came along with either of those things. A long time since you've seen your family.

Two years ago, maybe, you'd left to find yourself outside of the League's ans your grandfather, Ra's' mission. Two years ago, you left on the conditions that you would send a letter every once in a while so they knew you were alive.

You did send letters for the first six months or so to your family. But you just... Stopped. Either losing motivation or forgetting to write them, the letters back and forth between you and Nanda Parbat had ceased.

Ra's, of course, wasn't too appreciative of the lack of contact. But not once did he ever go after you and bring back his oldest grandchild. He knew better than that. He knew you'd come back on your own terms, if you ever did.

And, as per usual, he was correct. As chaotic as the League was with achieving their goals of saving Earth from humans, you'd missed the consistency of the chaos. Nothing came close to the comfort of your grandfather stroking your hair after a nightmare. It was almost easy to forget just how many people he'd killed and tortured for his cause.

Surrounded by the darkening orange skies of Tibet, you'd found yourself sitting in the lush gardens of the temples. It almost felt like old times: when you were a young child finding peace after the relentless training of the League. But you knew he'd acknowledge you presence, and he knew you'd come back eventually.

Ra's stood watching for quite some time as you stayed sat on a stone bench, the one that had been your favorite as a child. It was almost like some unspoken understanding that neither of you would break the meditative-like state of the moment for now.

"You've been gone for some time, moonflower." He states quietly as he takes a seat on the cold, stone bench of your childhood. His tone wasn't accusatory, however... Simply stating a fact of your situation and departure.