The flickering orange light shining behind and above her from the warehouse suddenly doused - it was 10PM exactly. The orange tones left with the light, and here she sat - the same chestnut she'd chosen in die Festung when she'd hidden from Peter, then kept because she wanted to remember the lessons she'd learned from that. When his return greeting wavered back at him, her grin spread infectiously.
"Apipoulaï," she said, and though it was spoken in her own language, the warmth in her voice conveying the double-greeting. "What are you doing over there? Are you going somewhere?" With one hand, she let go of the top edge of the wall where she was balancing and instead waved him over to join him. "Are you of the City? Or are you one of us?"
She thought he was not of the City. He did not have that quiet, soft look. He did not look soft at all, even from this distance.