Attentively listening was the hide-draped man, standing in the doorway as he was and allowing his profile to fill much of it to the point that should any had wished to enter or exit, that option would have been removed for the time.. The air of the outside world beyond this house of illness and suffering was a surprisingly refreshing reminder that not all of the civilized world was so bad, but it too reminded him that it was nothing in comparison to what he knew; this environment wrought with stone, wood and steel was not welcoming, not with its odor, it masses of peoples, beaten earth, pervasive noise and smoke. Or so he believed.
"The Red", an undeniably biased source, took joy and pleasure in the wilderness and its grim things. For a man such as he there was comfort in its savage leanings - ones that were often more associated with why one should avoid the wilderness rather than dive headlong into it. The thrill of the hunt, the rush of the ambush, the struggle of the kill... all the primal violence to it was the only things the barbarian truly
knew; the only world he could come to embrace. He was born into it, raised among it and drew his prowess from it. It had shaped all of what he was now from the soul-magic and supernatural forms he worked to his vicious fighting style.
Here, in this small wooden doorway? He had no respect or admiration for the amazing works he bore witness to - a surprisingly naive man of wisdom was Asadan Redd.
Breathing once more, vivid eyes closing briefly, he responded in his continued calm to Tirarrian, "This will suffice."
"I will meet your people at the most distinctive tavern before dawn tomorrow." He said, allowing his voice to carry a moment before seeing himself out the door without further affront.
With a huffing exhale the lion among the den of men, idly toyed with his fist; depressing each knuckle firmly until it let out an eased crack. It took little effort to imagine what it was the beast of a man busied his mind with as it was not hidden in the slightest, nay it was overtly obvious to any onlooker. Just the way in which he looked down upon his own two hands, face obscured by the hood he wore, and the manner in which he stood upon the blood spattered dirt under his worn traveling boots admitted he
loathed this place. It was the sort of dislike that seemed to strike him dead in the soul like it pained him.
The urge to shapechange and leave here and now, despite being in the midst of the town still, was unbearable. Just the animal need to escape.
Straightening himself, he calmly - or as much as he could maintain that demeanor - scanned the world about him whilst rolling a shoulder gently back. It did not take him long however, to notice the distinctive human woman who left not long before he had; she had just been met by a younger man, fitted in tattered red and a light set of chain, most distinctly identified by the locket hanging from his neck. The angle in which he had did not reveal everything despite this - there were more people, a smaller one as well, but it was all unclear at this distance.
Tilting his head further, he noted the interaction and mused for a moment on the relation of it all and where the green-eyed woman seemed destined to.
"Perhaps that is the tavern." His low, growled voice spoke hushed to himself.
Taking no longer from there, "The Red" slipped between the buildings once more, willing to be out of the vulnerability that came with being so visible among mundane folk in the streets. The alleyways would prove far safer... at least for him.
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