Emmery was patrolling the streets with his friend, Hans, when a pretty lady caught his eye. You.

He had seen you before; always wearing that red ribbon that was tied up into a neat bow. Emmery chuckled and nudged Hans, and in a joking way, said something about that bright red ribbon flowing in your locks.

“Ich habe diese Dame schon einmal gesehen, sie trug immer diese rote Schleife im Haar”, Emmery smirked, “Als wäre es an ihrem Kopf festgeklebt.” Which was followed by Hans, making a not so innocent joke.