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[h3][u][color=6ecff6]Xincai, Henan[/color][/u][/h3]
[b][i]A Chance Meeting[/i][/b]
[@Cu Chulainn]
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	“I’m...fine,” came the unconvincing reply from the floor. If the squeak had been any lower, even Hyun-Woo wouldn’t have been able to hear it. “Yeah, don’t worry about me.” The older young man had quick, darting eyes. Hyun-Woo wondered what that meant–he was used to changing pitches in voice, or the cadence of footsteps. And he had gathered a few basics of smiles, frowns, tense cheeks, and the like. But what did it mean, when a person’s eyes moved so quickly? Were his own just slow because he lacked practice?

	"I’m used to getting stepped on. Most warriors tend to do that when they run into a loser like myself wallowing on the ground. Your kindness is appreciated.” Hyun-Woo tilted his head. He didn’t realize it, but one of his eyebrows made an unpracticed attempt to raise up.

	“Ah...I’m sorry that others haven’t treated you well.” he said, as the baggy-eyed fellow dusted himself off–not that it did much good, given the state of his dress beforehand. A cloying, sour smell, with earthy undertones...Did this man often fall to the ground, or sleep on piles of leaves? That cloth around his neck...this weather wasn’t cold enough for scarves, so was it a traveling hood for rain? Was he...a beggar? The little scholar had mentioned the Beggar's Sect as a potent source of information. Or perhaps he was a refugee from the war--Hyun-Woo had heard tales of martial artists too crippled to keep going as a result of the many vicious battles. Maybe this man was one of those...although he seemed too young?

	“You’re new here, then? I don’t believe I recognize you.” The man lifted a hand to scratch himself, and Hyun-Woo blinked. It might go unnoticed by those with sight, but Hyun-Woo had felt many people’s movements around him. Within an arm’s reach or so, the surface of his skin picked up the disturbances in the air if someone did something sudden–if they walked past him at a brisk pace, he felt the cool draft in their wake. If someone waved their hands in front of his eyes–which they had done surprisingly often, whenever he had to explain his disability to other children–he could follow the arc without needing to see the hand, because of the wind it created.

	This young man’s movement barely disturbed his surroundings. It was the [i]lack[/i] of motion that made it stand out to Hyun-Woo, whereas others would likely not notice for the same reason. Was he one of those martial artists who were skilled in stealth arts?

	He introduced himself, with a bow, as...Jin. There was a halt to his voice, and a shift in his breathing. 

	“This one is Yi Hyun-Woo, of Goryeo. I am not worthy of recognition--My journey upon the Way has only just begun. It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir Jin.” He nodded his head, balancing the pile of scrolls as best he could. Luckily, it looked as if the scholar had secured her room, and he would soon be rid of this burden. “Being that this seems to be a gathering place of the Wulin, from what I can...see...Maybe you would be able to help me? I am in search, you see, of a small school known as the Mountain Ravine Fist. I have a letter to deliver to them, but only know that they are somewhere in Henan Province.”