Pharis walked the streets of Sentinel, having his wolf furs to defend him from the sun. His hood was big enough to cast a shade over his face, his ears kept hidden as well. While he was far enough from the Dominion's hold, the pressure of being a fugitive still holds its sway over the Bosmer. He'd rather keep his face hidden, after all...

The desire to stay inconspicuous was short-lived, however, as the Bosmer's stomach growled loudly. Pharis wasn't used to not being able to hunt for his foos, and the deserts of Hammerfell are quite treacherous and harder to navigate for one so attuned to the woods. Still, it was something he kept note of when he made his way to Hammerfell, and knew just how he was supposed to make a living in such a desolate land...

Pharis needed to find work.

He approached the nearby tavern, entering it and walking towards the bar. Pharis only had a handful of septims, placing one down.

"Water," he asked in a matter to hide his otherwise strong Bosmeri accent, "Please."  Pharis waited a moment for the barkeep to retrieve his drink, which didn't seem to take too long, before he decided to ask his next question. He took a long sip of his refreshment, sighing in relief after finishing and putting the cup down.

"Do you know of any place I could find some work?"