[ elena looks down at him, spying some snowflakes settling in his hair. despite how he's dressed so overtly not like elijah, it's the snowflakes that seem offensive and mar his appearance. she looks around, lips pursed, determination set in her brow. surely, something has to have lingered behind. it's too strange—the spectres had to be corporeal to hold those lanterns...
following him and crouching down, she rests her hands on her knees. she looks up and impulsively brushes snow from clumping in his hair, her brows still furrowed as if she expects the spectre to have disappeared into the strands. ]
It left every other spectre but the one without a lantern. [ momentarily lifting her gaze up, she spies spectres in the distance, clumped together in a line, all lit by lanterns. she wonders if he can hear them. peering back at elijah, she arches her brow and asks quietly, ] You don't think that's odd?
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following him and crouching down, she rests her hands on her knees. she looks up and impulsively brushes snow from clumping in his hair, her brows still furrowed as if she expects the spectre to have disappeared into the strands. ]
It left every other spectre but the one without a lantern. [ momentarily lifting her gaze up, she spies spectres in the distance, clumped together in a line, all lit by lanterns. she wonders if he can hear them. peering back at elijah, she arches her brow and asks quietly, ] You don't think that's odd?