it is rising like the evening tide around an old shipwreck
So far Mordred has not been subjected to alternates. This is likely to change profoundly for the worse if he keeps doing what he's doing, namely turning up a little way down the path from Sagramore's cottage in some other universe, and hanging about until the said Sagramore shows his face.
It would, in fact, be fairly obvious to anyone in the neighborhood that he's not in any sense a local. He looks the same, barring the T-shirt and the neater haircut; but there's more to it than that, a stillness in the way he holds himself, leaning against the tree with his arms folded, a patience in his face. Most people who know Mordred have never seen him this calm (and would probably worry, if they did).
It's a nice day. He waits.
It would, in fact, be fairly obvious to anyone in the neighborhood that he's not in any sense a local. He looks the same, barring the T-shirt and the neater haircut; but there's more to it than that, a stillness in the way he holds himself, leaning against the tree with his arms folded, a patience in his face. Most people who know Mordred have never seen him this calm (and would probably worry, if they did).
It's a nice day. He waits.