Unobtrusive within a shaded corner, Prasus Orontino watches the glum Nord woman without seeming to stare. To the casual passer-by, the young imperial is simply staring off into the distance while puffing upon a pipe, but to a distinguished observer, he is weighing up his mark. The locals ignore him as much as he does them, though the Bannered Mare is a local haunt of his,  he is known without being integrated as one of them, to them, he is a particularly aloof street-merchant, nothing more.<br/><br/>He could guesses the woman is a mercenary, or one of those adventurers traipsing about, she seems to be handy with her weapon. He has been shadowing most of the day, he was never seen as far as he thought of course, he always had a reason to be where he had to be, he did not sneak, rather, he melded with the crowd, he found that he was far more hidden doing such.<br/><br/>Some imperial courier has employed his services, the legionaries seemed particularly anxious to get their hands on a document she held, he did not care less for the imperial legion, kin or no, nor did he care about those Stormcloaks, he had been paid to do a job, nothing more. Prasus weighed his options. He could simply slip as hand into her pouch, take what was needed and be off with it, or he could engage her in conversation and wait for an opportunity.<br/><br/>He decided upon the latter, he could not afford to be caught by the guards, lest one of them blab in their drinks, Thieves' Guild bribe or no, besides, aspiring thieves in Whiterun had been particularly sparse as of late, so his fencing duties had not left him with much gold, nor did he particularly like the idea of being at the end of her weapon if Nocturnal's blessing wasn't upon him. Prasus stood, tucked away his pipe, and walked towards her table, a warm smile came easily to his lips as he took a place opposite the nord. "New here, are you friend?"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>