[center][b] Das the Wanderer[/b][/center]
[center][i] He will ride across land and time, to find a a way through this endless night. There is a storm in his heart and a fire burns his soul, but a wanderer’s part is to ride alone.[/i][/center]

	Das’ bestial eyes seemed fixed for a moment on the soft glow of Hugh’s pipe and he swore he felt the whispers of a miniature fire bedded in the sticky brown leaves of tobacco. He stood entranced for a moment before cocking brow and his smile widened as he turned to Vivian the drow. He was familiar with the type, white hair and smokey skin, although he would argue that Vivian had a certain attractiveness about her that had not fallen unnoticed on the fox. [i]Sana always kept pretty company,[/i] Das reasoned in his mind without much actual evidence of memories to back the statement up. 

	With long casual strides Das entered the more intimate area of the campsite, feeling himself welcomed to do so. He had woken up to continue his journey, or start it, depending on how he looked at it. Although this wasn’t his idea of a journey, he decided that a gentle conversation with attractive passersby wasn’t something he was about to argue against, especially considering how alone parts of his grand adventure tend to get. 

	With a thud and small poof of sand, Das plopped down next to Vivian, figuring his conversation with Sana as good as over as she started to sing and dance rather than reply to him properly. He shot out a hand and flashed his vulpine smile as he introduced himself, “and I am Das. So do you all vacation in the middle of hell often?”