The mage’s halt at the corner cued Lucressia in that something was wrong; she stopped, but not quite in time to avoid Elsa backing into her. But Lucressia was trained, schooled, drilled in stealth until it was almost natural to her, and she made no noise as she caught her balance, again. in fact, her hand almost snaked out to assure the mage’s balance, in case she toppled over. But that did not seem to be the case; for a moment Lucressia watched Elsa appreciatively, as she listened to the slow clank of what could only have been a patrolling Templar. But was he coming, or going? Who had more authority--he as Templar or she as priestess? If she needed to, could she bluff it?
All these thoughts raced through her head as she motioned to the mage, putting her finger along her lips and making a shush motion; she took a step forward, foot gently touching the stone floor, making no sound at all; she crouched slightly, bettering her balance and taking herself away from the height you would expect to see a person appear at. Thus low, she leaned around the corner to catch sight of the Templar.
He was walking away, thank the absentee god that Lucressia only believed in in the rarest moments of danger or suspense. A clank. Another clank, receding ever so slightly. And then, in a motion that made Lucressia’s stomach drop, he stopped, and turned and, with the bored gait of a man on a patrol that he had walked a thousand times before, he started up the hallway again.
Lucressia pulled her head back in behind the wall, and glanced up at Elsa: she spun her fingers, trying to communicate with the signs Crows used in these situations, wordless hand and mouth gestures passed down since the Steel Age, but... how would the mage know? Her fingers slowed and stilled, and instead she mouthed, “another way around?”