Hard to find her, no, not when one knew how to look. She had an old fashioned lamp, the sort that was made of glass and metal and held not a light but a candle within, flickering as she moved.
She paused now and again to touch the walls, the mosaic blue of the stones fascinated her. Tiny tiles but they were all the same color, no design built into them.. so why so much work, so much effort for someone no one would see or appreciate as the trains went whisking by.
Torchlight, and then the feeling of an immortal. She didn't run this time. Hati had reminded her, and in his own way, kept her safe from being prey with that reminder. Her head turns towards the feeling, and soon the sound of footsteps. She waits and watches, standing in the darkness.
She, crossroads, moon, magic, witchcraft, necromancy and spectres. What better place for her to be than here?