Who: Conor & Duncan
What: Crossing paths again
When: June 3rd, evening
Where: Dancing Swords
Warnings: TBD
Prompt: Traveler


The quiet of the Cirque was pressing in on Conor's ears, hushed in a way that it almost never was. They should have been open right now, entertaining guests and welcoming them into the various tents. But they weren't. Repairs were still going on, everyone trying to put the pieces back together and make sense of things. Conor was lucky in that regard, the Garden had emerged largely unscathed, except for some minimal damage here and there.

Conor, in his own way, had paid tribute to his fallen comrades. Seven stars and seven stones were placed in and around one of the trees, a nod to Tolkien and the lost in one fell swoop. Maybe no one else would know what it meant, but he did. He'd remember.

Right now, though, he was out walking, looking for something to occupy his time until he eventually wandered home to bed. There were some sounds of activity filtering out of various tents, others keeping themselves busy in a similar fashion, no doubt. He was passing by the Dancing Swords, when he heard the familiar thudding sound of a knife hitting wood. Curious, he peeked his head in, more interested now that he saw who it was. "Look what the cat dragged in," he drawled, leaning against a pole and grinning slightly.