With so few people, the carnival practically transformed in the still quiet of darkness. He could hear the edges and dips in places his daytime scouting with Beauregard hadn't afforded. Here, he can hear her near-silent steps and maneuver easily around what obstacles they come across, until a sound a head has their attention. Their quarry. They had a precious few moments to pick how to do this before they lost their window, they would need to make it count.

"Yes." His voice was always low and quiet, but it works for the better now. He pulls the mask from one of the fabric loops of the outfit he'd arrived in, battle-worn leathers and thick, dark, quilting treated to absorb sounds and hits alike. Listening to how she moved, how she carries herself, there's little doubt in him they're both built for this...and all the better. They would need both of their heads.

"Pincer or surprise?" He asks before slipping the mask into place. He would have preferred his usual cloth covering, but he'd been assured this thing would be more thorough.