The Highlander folded her arms and pressed her upper back against the pillar, leaning so as to look casual to any passers-by who should glance in her direction. She turned her head over her shoulder. Her mark was a short way up the Exchange; he had stopped to converse with a young Miqo'te female. Bryn watched keenly.
The way Castille conducted his daily business gave the impression of a man who need not worry about the possibility of interested parties hiring anyone to shadow him, but Brynhilde knew better. Still, she could not deny the unease she felt at stalking one of her own kin.
Nonetheless, Brynhilde was a professional, and the job would be done. To her frustration, however, Castille had done very little worth noting in the time she had been following. She pulled the small leather notepad from her pocket and glanced down at the single statement written there with a frown.
"Weaknesses: fond of large rocks."