Finding out that his own things were in his inventory was something of a blessing, if you could call being here a blessing. Maybe it was, given he probably was supposed to be dead.

He had perched himself atop a building that was away from the main streets, his legs dangling over the edge. He was in the process of checking over and cleaning his gun. The assholes he paid to watch his stuff, well. They did an adequate job. It was only his obsessive tendency that caused him to go through this right now.

Leon stopped as he heard someone else step foot on the rooftop and he turned just enough to see who it was. Just a glimpse: he needed nothing more once he saw the wolf and blonde hair.

"You were there too. In Gladsheim."