Scar landed lightly on the rooftop, the wind tugging at his cape as he drew his bow back in a smooth, practiced motion. His eyes narrowed behind the mask, locking onto the small figure standing in the alley below.

〰︎»»—> “Hold it right there—!”

But then the figure tilted their head up, sunlight catching soft feathers and bright blue eyes.

〰︎»»—> “...Grian?”

Scar’s voice cracked, the bowstring trembling slightly.