Lupold

Soft light from a setting sun danced along the edges of the tall grass as it swayed. A breeze moved it, almost melodically so. A late summer's warmth laid on his skin as he turned and looked around. 

A flutter of a green cloak alerted him to the one some odd steps before him. Unhooded, watching, his hands laying still at his side as if they never needed to grasp a weapon.

Galtharian poked his head into the room, glancing around the dusty room cautiously before opening the door fully. His face lit up as he saw the figure inside. He dashed in, unwrapping the parcel he was carrying and setting down the several bottles on the top of the papers and maps on the table. He grabbed two empty mugs from the nightstand next to them, hopping over the books that were stacked all over the floor. 

A melodic chuckle escaped the figure as it fell softly into the tall grass from it's refuge upon the treetops. The bear that was pursuing him had gone limp, punctured with several arrows. Galtharian looked up, meeting the eyes of the archer, unable to hide the almost guilty expression in his face.

He jumped from Petal without a sound and gave her a smile, letting her stay in front of the inn freely - she did not need his input.

He stepped into the dusty room, it was not his own but it was close enough. His eyes flew over the faces around, some he had known well, some he had only seen, some unknown to him still. The strangers would look at him, exchange a whisper.

The fire was lit without much difficulty. He had watched others do it so many times in recent days that his movements started forming somewhat of a routine. He knew he was being helpful, and he relished in that feeling.

Two figures sat in the flower-covered yard of the empty house. A hastily scribbled sign at the entrance signified the home had no one to call its master, but the two seemed comfortable enough, or perhaps, one of them did.