Pocketed hands. Determined strides and a soft whistling, the demeanor of Felix was cheerful. Moving his way down the street, without a care in the world. It wasn't like he had any reason to be worried. He didn't have any hunts he was forced to go on, he had completed and turned in his annual planning of lessons and such. There wasn't much to be concerned about.
His hand moved up to his chin, rubbing it with a soft scritching. Some stubble, he had to shave. The hand moved further up to the cigarette in his mouth. A soft inhale and he pulled it out, flicking out a zippo and lighting the tip properly again. Exhaling slowly. He turned a corner into a small alley he had to pass through every so often, one hand pocketed again. The other gripping the pistol in his chest holster and pulling it halfway out. His thumb fingering the cylindrical magazine of flechette, a soft clicking resounding. "Top of the mornin', you can come on out now," he stated to no one in particular. Glancing around for any sign of movement.
Provided no one showed themselves, he just pushed the pistol back in it's holster and move on. It wasn't the first time he made the wrong call. He did it almost every time he passed this particular alley. Hoping one day, he'd be on point.
His hand moved up to his chin, rubbing it with a soft scritching. Some stubble, he had to shave. The hand moved further up to the cigarette in his mouth. A soft inhale and he pulled it out, flicking out a zippo and lighting the tip properly again. Exhaling slowly. He turned a corner into a small alley he had to pass through every so often, one hand pocketed again. The other gripping the pistol in his chest holster and pulling it halfway out. His thumb fingering the cylindrical magazine of flechette, a soft clicking resounding. "Top of the mornin', you can come on out now," he stated to no one in particular. Glancing around for any sign of movement.
Provided no one showed themselves, he just pushed the pistol back in it's holster and move on. It wasn't the first time he made the wrong call. He did it almost every time he passed this particular alley. Hoping one day, he'd be on point.