Zoriah pushed his large, wooden cart forward, straining with just about every step. He had been out of town visiting the outside world for a little under two weeks, and was now returning with a whole slew of clothing, plants, seeds, books and even a chinchilla. Being dressed in such modern clothing made him feel out-of-place as he was entering the rustic and magical forest. Upon passing through the town's borders, he could feel there was a disturbance, and for a change of pace, this time it wasn't him. A group of old ladies were talking in front of a shop, and he overheard them jabbering on about a crashed flying machine, new store workers, and even the possibility of new humans entering the area.
[i]Home-town. Noun; a place of permanent residence; or, in my case, humid air, adorable shops, and of course, our daily gossipers... [/i] Zoriah whispered to himself, wondering how accurate their petty stories were or weren't.

He paused for a minute and sat down on the ground, untying the head-band that had held his black ears down against his head, and, with a smile, replaced it with an over-sized, green magician's-type hat that better suited just about everything about Alber. Upon trying to stand up and failing, Zoriah decided he was going to sit down for a bit, now that he was in the safety of the town's borders. Of course, the aromas looming from the bakery probably wouldn't keep him there long...