Néron wasn't known to be social, hence that it was much of a surprise when the wizard sat alone against a tree, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He quietly read a book, some of his dark hair falling in his face, having to brush it back from time to time. Statilia couldn't care less of his surroundings, enjoying the quietness while his nose was buried in his worn scarf.

The black-haired wizard was ignored for a few hours, as expected, but much to his dismay, he heard the sound of steps coming his way. He could hear the leaves crunch under the person's feet and with disinterest, he looked up at them, purely out of curiosity that is.

"What do you want?" He said, his words coming out harsh while he flicked the ashes off his cigarette.