Even from behind, Gideon can identify a necromancer at a hundred paces. Farther with a clear path. It's bare bones dressing up of a skeleton. That connection to death even when they're alive (much less this mind fucked otherlife nonsense). As she approaches, Gideon stands taller and peers closer. Her heart speeds up, and Gideon forces her breathing and steps to be even. No reason to embarrass herself if she's wrong.

She's not wrong.

"Buddy, (P/p)al, friend," Gideon declares from a few body lengths away. "Kindly, what the fuck?!?"