On the other side of the campfire, Eleanor relaxed. Her transformed hair from Vergil's 'Authority' was now pulled back into a knot — save for a few strands of brown hair that remained loose.
Her onyx-hued eyes held the reflection of the flickering flames, though her mind lingered elsewhere as the sound of crackles permeated the air.
Her hands remained firm on her lap, yet her presence remained sharp as if she was untouchable.
Elena made her way slowly, sitting next to Eleanor. Her auburn hair caught streaks of amber as she relaxed herself.
She glanced once at Eleanor, then the fire — amber eyes warm, but not naive.
She was experienced in her own way.
"You're not really the type to hang around the fire," Elena spoke. "Thinking about something?"
"... It's nothing," Eleanor replied coldly — sitting like a statue that never moved.
"I came to see if a certain person was still brooding." Elena teased lightly.
