Tibor walked in the back of the caravan, looking out across the plains and mountains as they passed by. The world around him was new, each plant and animal a wonder to him. Sprawling grasslands, huge mountain peaks in the distance, and a cool breeze that kept the sun from roasting his head. Even the evergreens, something common place to most, had the tortle stopping to take a moment and admire them.

Where others were guarded, Tibor himself felt calm and at peace. With such sprawling grasslands around them, how could any beast hope to sneak up on them? Though their party was not large, they had beasts to pull their goods, a rare thing in his homeland. Each cloud overhead was a reminder that he was not under the vast canopies of the jungles that covered his home, that he was not surrounded by the monsters and undead which had been a constant in his life until that point.

He was so at peace, he felt comfortable bringing out his flute. As the group walked, he would play a melody from his homeland.
(Roll for flute-playing: [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/21163]13[/url])
It was not a rousing song, nor was it of particular note. Foreign, perhaps, but that was all there was to it. The sound of the air blowing through the thin tube, conjuring a melody that reminded him of the flickering of leaves from palm trees on the beach, was as much of his home as he wanted just then.