[center][h1][color=754F44]Arendal Nevarth[/color][/h1][/center][hr]
The ruins grew closer and closer, and he continued on at a fair pace. The wind had picked up at his back, speeding him along. A low rumble of distant and rolling thunder made it clear that he wouldn't have made it back to the village in time. He only hoped that the ruins would provide decent enough shelter for him to avoid being soaked. Since it was so close to the border he hoped that he wouldn't have to contend with anything else. Just because Brevyon detested magic didn't mean it didn't exist. There were plenty of things that like the type of energy that places like that; none of which he cared to encounter on a good day, let alone when a storm was coming. 

The ruins were now upon him, and he could tell that it was a lot more intact that it had seemed from a distance. A lot of overgrowth had obscured parts that were still standing, and he knew that it would be sufficient enough. 

Out of the shadow of an opening a figure seemed to melt out, taking him by surprise. His hand gripped his staff a bit tighter as he assessed the situation that he just walked into. A man stood there, his bright eyes surveying Arendal. Behind him an ethereal wolf watched as well. He was momentarily put off by the man's appearance, but his tone wasn't exactly threatening though.

If he had wanted to harm him he probably could have done it while he wasn't paying attention instead of surprising him like he did. Still, Arendal didn't fully let his guard down. "[color=754F44]That is why my kind avoid coming near the border,[/color]" he said, regaining his composure. "[color=754F44]I was under the impression that I would find this place empty. I made the mistake of misjudging the weather when I set out this morning. I was hoping to stay out of the storm.[/color]"

He still hoped to do so, but didn't want to start something if the man was doing something in the ruins that he was trying to hide.