Veridian, she murmured. Get up here and help me. We need to flank him. Delath, stay below for now. She felt the fox and the dragon respond to her instructions without question, her clearly their commander in this time.

Breathing in she reached in and brought herself through the earring to Gosling. Still she watched the rooftops over the street where the abomination had gone, and where he had now disappeared into.

Gosling?

My lady! the secretary gasped, very briefly showing the sight from her eyes - a genuinely disgusting and sweaty man. Quickly, she hid it.

Philomel curled her lip and prepared for the next leap. We will be severing contact now. I will come find you in the morning. She paused, her limbs tense. Oh and I think I left your notes in the street.

With that, and hearing only a simple gasp before she leant back, Philomel ended the contact. Then she ran, fast and furious, coming to a leap at the end of the roof. She sailed over the street, and then continued on over the more closely packed roofs where she had seen the Huntsman go, sucking in her breath as she sent awareness into the tiles and the clay that they were once of, the soil and dust that lay between their cracks.

Veridian?

Here, he gently hissed, showing his form clambering up a crate, then a windowsill and then a rooftop. I come.

As her awareness spread around her Philomel slowed to a pace, listening to the clink of the tiles beneath her. Her eyes swept left to right and her knowledge went vast, but it was clear that the man had gone to hide. She came to a place where chimneys began to peek from homes and a smile came to her face as she saw emptiness. For a while. Then -

Ah yes. There it was. Forty feet to the north,north east. Behind a chimney stack itself. Twisting around in that direction she began the stalk towards her prey, now second blade singing as it was drawn, not silently, but obviously from her sheath. Veridian showed himself circling around to approach from the other side, claws digging into the slate he trod upon, and ready to release his own fiery fury at any time.

There was a heavy sigh, and the sound of fabric rustling. Then the man stepped out from behind the chimney stack, facing the faun. In his right hand, held loosely, was his weapon, folded in half. He shook his head, the tricorn hat bobbing in the moonlight.

“Why not just let me go? I have no quarrel with you.” It seemed he had taken the time that it took for her to find him to catch his breath and recover, as he wasn't breathing hard from the running and leaping.

Philomel's brows genuinely rose at his statement. She saw the small figure of Veridian coming up opposite her, his jaws open and the beginnings of ember light emerging. Her two bright white bladed swords were held ready but she paused as he came freely.

“Quarrel … well. You ran, first of all. Then, there is the matter of the fact we are hunting something, Mr Huntsman and that genuinely happens to be your kind.”