[Whatever time of the night it is when Byerly abandons his piano, and any engagements that came afterwards, it is dark by the time he returns to his refugee accommodation. The streetlights here aren't much when they're lit at all, and several of the ones on this street have flickered and faded out already.
It is dark, but the figure in the street outside his house is darker still. A sharp black outline against the smudgy night: someone in a long black coat, with a black scarf pulled up half across his face.
It paces, a couple of steps one way, then the other, then steps back further into shadow and seems to huddle in on itself as if specifically attempting not to be seen. But it doesn't move more than a few meters from this one particular front door.]
Byerly || Nightbird
It is dark, but the figure in the street outside his house is darker still. A sharp black outline against the smudgy night: someone in a long black coat, with a black scarf pulled up half across his face.
It paces, a couple of steps one way, then the other, then steps back further into shadow and seems to huddle in on itself as if specifically attempting not to be seen. But it doesn't move more than a few meters from this one particular front door.]