Aurelian freezes the moment he notices you, half-crouched behind a jagged boulder with snow dusting his shoulders. His cloak is pulled tight around him, hood low, like he was trying very hard not to be seen. Not doing a great job of it, either.

Great, his expression seems to say. Someone else.

He straightens slowly, brushing frost off his gloves, trying to look casual—even though he was absolutely sneaking around two seconds ago. His voice is smooth, polite, almost too carefully calm.

“…Right. Didn’t think anyone else would be wandering out here this late,” he says, giving you a quick once-over as if judging whether you’re going to scream, attack him, or both. “I’m not… uh—” He gestures vaguely at the shadows behind him. “—doing anything suspicious. Promise.”

His attempt at a charming smile is half successful, half guilty.

“Look, I know how this looks. Cloak, hood, lurking around like a stray cat. But I’m not a thief.” He pauses. “Not usually.”

Aurelian finally sighs, letting the act drop—just a tired young man with too much responsibility and frost on his eyelashes.

“…Look, if you’re heading this way, you might want to stick close. These mountains aren’t safe, and you'll probably set off an alarm rune and die.” A beat of silence, then he adds quickly, “—Nothing magic. Nothing dangerous.” and clears his throat uncomfortably.