[center][h3][color=0054a6]The Hermit[/color][/h3][/center]
[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/i6fLcHF.pngp[/img][/center]

“These woods have always been the kingdom of the wolves,” he says, “it has always been where they reign and roam. A few days ago they took the prize sheep of a farmer I knew. I think they are growing hungry and bold since they have been pushed further away from their homes.”

Favian lightly scan the others. He cannot necessarily settle the tightening anxiety beginning to develop in his chest. A part of him wants to run, but they watched him run in a bus. And indeed of viewing him as a nutter they spoke with him. Now he felt all their eyes on him indirectly and directly. Favian placed his eyes on the bush for a second before continuing.

“Aye, the Hermit,” he takes a second to look at the road behind them, the one that lead him to safety. He yearned to be in his cottage as soon as he could and now he was being invited to journey and adventure, “I do not compete with my fellows.of the musical trade. I’d, however, be honored to play with you. I bet our melodies would be harmonious.”

He bows lightly and politely, before eyeing the road behind them. There was the town and behind him was adventure and uncertainty. It made him nervous, he fidgeted with his fingers as if he was playing his lute to calm himself down. He had forgotten about his hunger in this state as he feels nauseous worry swirling in his gut.

When the dog came up to him, he pet the dog on the head, which eased his nervousness a bit.

“Maybe to the next town over,” he tells them nervously, “Traveling with you that is.”