Gabriel stood in the narrow corridor, a dim passageway separating the storm outside from the warmth and noise of the guild hall ahead.
Laughter rattled weakly through the walls, Tankards clinked, and boots scraped along the wooden floor.
A fire crackled somewhere in the distance.
He inhaled again, grounding himself in the moment.
Gabriel raised his hand to his neck, unfastening the clasp of his blood-soaked robe. He didn't want the weight of it hindering him one bit.
He folded it and neatly placed it on the ground.
Next, the sheath from his back was removed and placed next to the robe.
The candles in the corridor flickered with every movement.
He straightened up, his irises still pulsing.
Gabriel stepped forward, only once. As silent as a breath.
The hall waited at the end of the passage. And so did the man.
He walked.
