[Ava enters the armory and a masked figure can be found leaning against a wall of swords, arms folded over their chest. Even so, the quill's pinched between their thumb and their index finger by the stem, twirling the feather back and forth. They turn their head the moment she enters, and though she can't see their face the voice is smooth and low, just a touch curious as they look at her.]
Week 0
About time.