[center][h1][color=f7941d]Cheon[/color][/h1][/center]
[i]Favors like dripping water should be repaid with gushing springs.[/i]

Cheon once studied under a master who was fond of dispensing adages and koans like a Guinispo missionary did scripture. But where the original meaning spoke to the necessity of generosity, gratitude and mutual benefit, time as a wanderer equipped him with a far more transactional lens by which to examine to the proverb: if someone does something nice for you, they expect something in return. Usually it was something violent, if only because the blade on his hip and the word on the street precluded more peaceable impressions.  

It was in moments like these that Cheon invoked a line of his own: [i]don't look a gift horse in the mouth[/i]. If Simon Henrich was playing an angle, then he would gladly play the fool. All expenses were paid simply meant he had to make sure [i]all[/i] expenses were paid. By the dawn of the third day, the vulpine warbeast had sampled all the delights made available to them: from the countless local delicacies to the hosts of entertainers to the medley of leisure activities.

As a skilled masseuse unwound the tension in his muscles, Cheon looked over the unopened letter he'd been passed. He split the seal with a black claw, and scanned the contents within: a letter and a map.

Like all things, it seemed that his brief time at the aptly-named Royal Respite had finally come to an end. Lykke was truly a fickle mistress. Last week, he'd been sleeping outside like a beggar, hat pulled over his eyes to ward away the desert sunrise. This week, he'd sat in the lap of luxury, receiving succor for his sore paws. With this morning's letter, there was no doubt in his mind that the coin was flipping towards the former moreso than the latter.

But before that happened, he planned to finish his massage!

[center]***[/center]
Cheon's breed was swift-footed by nature. Armed with both a verbal and visual map, there was little question that he could have cut much closer to the deadline if he so chose. However, punctuality had been ingrained in Cheon from a very young age. Duelists did not arrive late nor did they arrive precisely on time; they arrived [i]early[/i], for reasons as numerous as blades in an army. 

In this case, Cheon simply wanted to have enough time to appreciate the scenery cultivated by Fiugnia's eponymous Rose Holder. The arboreal vistas of the enchanted rainforest were so far removed from the outlying desert or the central plains of his homeland. Wandering through countries like Fiugnia was always an experience that fostered humbleness and resentment in equal parts. Uninhibited by the constant ebb and flow of borders, art, architecture and infrastructure could flourish and intermingle beyond simply well-decorated arms, well-marched roads and well-defended fortresses.

At any rate, Cheon too made his way to Simon's Estate in the Noble Haven.