The male elf stands on the edge of the common area watching the female at the fountain. At this moment, in his own mind, she was the only other being in the area. For several minutes he remains in the shadows simply watching her movements. Soon he becomes lost in her. For these were the only moments when he could feel right by her. Now he could form the words in his head. The perfect phrases to say without coming across as a fool. But the instant he stood by her all of those carefully thought out words would become nothing but a jumble and fall out of his mouth so awkwardly that the only reaction Daewen could offer with sincerity would be a slight smile of pity.
Iason is pulled from his dreaming when Daewen makes the distinct movement of scanning the area. As her eyes pass over were he stands, he feels the blood rush to his ears just knowing that she has spotted him starring at her. A fist clenches in frustration and silently his curses himself with an emphasized jerk of the head. And even though he equally reinsures himself that he was not seen it was too late to push off the feeling of unease. He was now late regardless.
Briskly the rogue leaves the shadows, cutting effortlessly between the crowds to reach the fountain. With a brief flash of eye contact for initial greeting he finds himself a seat beside Daewen. As she still holds daggers and stone in hand he too pulls out his own. And though they have no need of additional sharpening he begins to do so if only to give his mind some focus.