<div class="floatleft">(http://i1087.photobucket.com/albums/j480/Erion2451/imagesqtbnANd9GcQHRf-EfXiHNjouiY188W3Glvv6DwBR_9gAFz_EoPEDdNgPAezE.jpg)</div><strong>Name;</strong>Mariana Estevan<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Cemetary<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Kit, and anyone else<br/><hr/>Maria, as those closest to her called her, watched the eulogy from the back of the assembly.  She didn’t know the gray haired man who balanced himself upon his cane and spoke of Duncan MacCleod of the clan MacCleod.  It was obvious the man knew Duncan well, and knew more than any mortal had a right to know.  His words, while sincere and accurate, irritated her slightly.  Another irritation was the number of Immortals who had actually felt compelled to attend.  This many with this short of a notice only confirmed what she had already suspected.  This was the second occasion this week that had forced her into a cemetery.  Though, she had been much closer to Darius than MacCleod.  It had been through Darius that she had met the Scotsman and during one of the various times she had taken sanctuary on holy ground.<br/><br/>Now, dressed in the appropriate black of mourning with her head firmly attached to her neck, she wondered if MacCleod had ever pieced together the full picture.  In a roundabout way, he was responsible for her still being there.  Chivalry had been a tool to use especially when Duncan MacCleod had been involved.<br/><br/>When her time came, she approached the open casket, avoided looking at the pieced together body, and gently placed a red rose inside.  It was an affront to who they were that someone had sewn his head back on.  She wondered momentarily if Duncan would've wanted this.  He had been a warrior after all and warriors deserved to be honored for what they were.  She said no words for the man, but a single comment echoed in her head.<br/><br/><em>He was the best of us.</em><br/><br/>A guarded look was given to the other Immortals, as she stepped away from the fallen Immortal.  Some she recognized, others she only knew from the sense and that her eyes had been inexplicably drawn to them.  The woman who had left in the limo had caught her attention as well.  Not because she had been drawn to her, there had been too many in attendance by the time the woman had arrived for Maria to know for sure, but because of the suspicious actions.  There were more subtle ways to leave a funeral than how that woman had chosen to.<br/><br/>Maria’s dark brown eyes locked upon those of a petite short woman of Central American decent, if Maria’s guess was right.  She didn’t know the woman but didn’t miss the casual nod to the side.<br/><br/>It was best to see what she wanted.   Julia, her mentor, had always claimed it was better to make a friend than an enemy.  Words of wisdom Maria had generally followed over the last six hundred years.  Now that the ceremony was over and they would soon be leaving holy ground, Maria couldn’t help but feel slightly exposed.  She at least had the common sense to wear flats and knew full well that heels would’ve sunk into the earth and made fighting or running impossible.<br/><br/>Despite where they were, and the number of people around them, Mariana kept her distance from the woman.  She would wait until the mortals left before speaking, and even then would remain out of sword range.  If there was indeed a Gathering taking place, she wouldn’t trust the protection of holy ground.<br/>