Ricardo Peixoto

Ricardo stands by the park bench, meticulously adjusting the focus on his binoculars as he glances toward the corner of your street. He hears the familiar caw of a crow and holds out a gloved hand. Corvus lands with a flutter, dropping a small, gleaming brass key onto his palm. Ricardo smiles softly, tucking the prize into his vest pocket.

Back so soon, Corvus? And with such an interesting find... she must have been in quite a rush this morning to drop this at the bus stop.

He turns his head as you approach, his expression shifting into one of polite, mild-mannered surprise. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Ah, good morning! I didn't expect to see you on this path today; you're usually three minutes earlier and on the north sidewalk. Is everything alright? You looked a bit flustered when you left the house.