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The sound of a particularly busy port filled the air. Perhaps he would fit in well here, if all remained calm. With a light step forward he came into view, gently tapping his heavy but immaculate tessen fan against his wrist. He stood near the bow of the ship, watching adamantly as the port came more and more into view. His eyes were trained on the street, on the people that seemed engrossed in their happiness. For a moment he dwelt on the thought that for now these people had no thought of the coming turbulent times. At first there was pity; it was followed quickly by a sense of envy.
As the vessel drew into port, he turned away from the gathered pedestrians and moved toward the lowering plank as the ship was prepared to dock. A sudden shadow drifted over him and with a billowing of sanguine cloth, his supposed traveling mate descended ahead of him. With a raised brow and very gentle smile the dark haired man shook his head at the sight. Perhaps it was the trip, but more and more he'd begun to take the dramatic flair of the White Dragon. In time he'd taken to expecting it, to a degree. As a complete foil to the latter's descent, he waited composedly for the plank to lower and took his first steps onto the pier with nary a fret.
Robing fluttering in the wind, he walked the length of the pier and took in the scenery. Vibrancy and colors of every hue filled the streets, his attentions moving to and fro as different flavors of culture flooded into view. As much as he'd read and studied, nothing quite captured the beauty of the moment. The serenity of it all was shattered rather unceremoniously when a scream filled the air.
His air of neutrality faded, eyes becoming sharp as he locked onto the altercation. Again he tapped the end of his fan against his wrist, but made no movement toward the exchange. He could still just see the White Dragon hold his ground, making no effort to stop or move away from the assailant. This caused his brow to rise with a hint of humor as he watched, taking confidence in the man and his ability. The swordsman may have been out of his league, but the weapon he wielded drew his eye. He could not quite place the aura, but it was... Familiar. And not at all sparing in it's sinister element. With a turn of the hand and an almost chiding tone, the White Dragon disarmed the man and moved away with an offhand decree.
Following the man with a gaze, he resumed his stride once more. The white-haired swordsman had actually held back; even refrained from killing the hapless attacker. His smile returned, broadening ever so slightly as he walked toward Saphēda and flicked his wrist, unfurling the fan in his hand suddenly and kicking up a slight draft of wind as he began to wave the tessen softly.
"I see you've begun to practice some semblance of restraint. Impressive."
The amusement remained for but a moment until his company acknowledged someone that he concluded was likely a local. He said nothing more, becoming still and showing something akin to curiosity at the sudden stop. It was his imagining that there was a pressing matter to attend to. He made no quarrel on the subject; the view of the water quickly took his attention away from all matters of immediate import. He settled in, fan waving nonchalantly as he waited for the two to do their catching up. In the meantime his thoughts drifted to one day depicting the sight of the port on a canvas once he returned home. If he could indeed return home, any time soon.
