(no subject)

[blue_eyed_lord]

It is Midwinter's Day and the Black Rider is in the bar, a cold shadow in the warm-lit room. Subtle tension is noticeable in his stance, leaning as if at ease against an unoccupied table. That the tension shows at all is a measure of how great it is. Impassively, he watches the snow accumulate on the far side of the windowpane, obscuring the night beyond.

Tonight. Tonight, he'll be rid of this place for good.