The Crow remained equally motionless, his feathered cape still barely fluttering, as if crows wished to birth forth from the inky, protean sea. As Irina removed herself from her post and began to approach him, the Crow would begin to observe his fellow Vileblood. To put it blunt, she was beautiful. Many other thoughts began to wrap around his head, those that often coincide with the instigator of a beautiful woman. The Crow would retain his composure, however. He put all that he had learned to work. As Irina inched closer to him, she could easily make out her own reflection in his helm. Albeit it was distorted by the curvature of the helm and the intricate designs that laid it. When Irina raised her hand, the Crow first took to observe it. It was like the skin of a fine porcelain doll. He remembered a doll, once. Once, within a dream. The Crow then took upon his second action. He undid the leather straps of his right gauntlet to reveal a forearm just as wan as her own skin. The Crow kneeled, placing his gauntlet aside. He took Irina‘s hand within his own, raising it slightly. He then looked to the ground, and spoke. “My lady, I am Ashley Damascus Monroe, a Knight of Castle Cainhurst.” He released her hand gradually, rose up, and fastened his gauntlet. Normally, he would have kissed her hand. Though, he did not want to remove his helm for reasons he would keep to himself. After the exchange was well and done, he spoke once more. “I apologize if I may be too gallant.” He spoke quick and with brevity in mind.