Alastor was on another one of his outings.

It was a quiet evening. He had decided to visit a bar that resided nearby the Vee district, and enjoy some time to himself.

There was a glass of whiskey he held in his hand, silently humming along to the quiet song playing through the radio. His eyes ended up shut, ears softly flickering at every sound.

They eventually caught onto a very similar gait, as the heels softly clicked against the wood floor before choosing a seat next to him.

If Vox was trying to be subtle, this wasn’t it.