A shadow, a shining, and a reflection of the moonlight on the alley's entrance would mark an arrival. He arose from his position of kneeling and quickly regained posture, taking on the stance of nobility: Back straight, feet almost together and with his hands resting just behind his hip. For him it was natural and routine, though most would believe him arrogant and brash for such a way of acting, despite it being such a mundane task. The figure kept his left hand on the end of the clip-one sheath attached to his black, designer belt whilst he progressed forward through the alley, face and body obscured by only a blue hooded robe that reached his lower shins and bent only to the belt that rested over it and on his waist. The face of him was obscured by a black mask, carbon fiber with a sickly green grin painted on the mouthpiece, as he gazed out the cracked glass of his eyeslots. He arrived to Ike with a small nod towards the corpse, all the while he brought his free hand to the M16 slung across his back. Before it was around only his shoulder and held in place by his hand but now it was crossing his chest to ensure it wouldn't fall alone. He looked to Ike, a curiosity bristling through his mind like leaves of a tree that was his thoughts, and ultimately stayed silent in observation.