[It is precisely ten-thirty in the morning on September 11th when Javert raps sharply at Noa's door. Upon opening the door to greet the good Warden and Priest, he will notice that Javert is dressed for riding. His boots are uncharacteristically muddy and neatly warn over his trousers; his hair is tucked beneath his cap; and he still carries the lingering smell of a dusty barn on his clothes. His coat isn't buttoned, as is his usual neatness commands; rather, it is warn loose over the shoulders, unbuttoned, his arms not tucked into its sleeves.
Under his arm he carries a parcel from the bakery.]
Good morning, [he greets evenly, followed by a curt jerk of his chin toward the interior.] May I enter?
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momijizukamori
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Date: 2023-09-12 09:03 pm (UTC)Under his arm he carries a parcel from the bakery.]
Good morning, [he greets evenly, followed by a curt jerk of his chin toward the interior.] May I enter?