Beneath the stars, so high, so bright, the silent figure of the violet/raven-haired girl stared upwards with a sense of distrust. Her pale, aged eyes held no warmth to offer, merely the coldness that lingered within her and seemed to cling to her like a second skin.

Her fingertips smoothed over the surface of the hand gun at her hip, almost like the friendly caress to a trusted companion as she slowly raised her firmly planted feet from the dunes of the desert, walking onwards towards the city of burning sand. The message had indeed been urgent, now that she had the majority of detail she would need, it was a simple matter of forming a plot...a plan of action.

But...would the woman see through her acts? Did she have enough control to shield herself from the woman's mind, prying deep enough to the limitless bounds of ideas in the young woman's mind, and finding not only her secrets and plans, but her desires as well? Should such a thing happen, all was lost and she would be worth nothing to the case...merely cast to be another bystander, helpless and utterly useless.

No, she couldn't believe that, and wouldn't.

She ran a pale, milk white hand through the dark, ebony-violet hair out of frustrated habit before letting it fall loose by her sides once more, though she allowed her hand to linger behind her neck, and feel the powerful weapon at her back for reassurance.
Step by slow, meager step, she picked her paths and made her way back to Dazil, unsure of what she'd find.