The sun waves goodbye as it disappears behind the horizon. Not wanting to stop they began ducking and weaving through the dusk. As Andrew eyes the stranger he begins becoming increasingly curious about the boy. His hair was the color of fresh soil that had just been stolen from the earth, and he had a noticeable cut under his eye which suggested foul play although it wasn't deep enough to be from a weapon, most likely from a tree branch or from falling from such great height. His pasty skin hinted he didn't get out much although his clothing suggested he had money to his name. More and more questions arrive the more Andrew gazes, maybe he was robbed by bandits and to avoid justice they threw him into the river to perish, maybe he was a bandit and he had just gotten away with the loot and to avoid capture he thought he can swim against the current, there's evidence to support that idea as a tattoo of a strange unknown symbol rests on the left side of his neck. The more Andrew stares at this young man the more questions arise: Who is he? Where did he come from? Is anyone looking for him? These thoughts fill Andrews's head as the cart comes to a stretching halt.
"It's too dark to see" Xander yells from the driver's seat "We better set up camp and rest until morning."
Andrew nods in agreement as he lifts the boy up and out of the cart, Andrew sets him down next to the kindling his comrade had set up for him and once again begins striking the flint until the fire gains new life. Xander tosses Andrew half a loaf of bread as he begins snacking on the other half tearing off bite size pieces and munching down, Andrew begins mirroring him but as a tiny bit of rebellion throws his bite-size piece in the air only to skillfully catch it in his mouth. As they talked and ate Xander's eyes fell on the boy, in silent agreement they began discussing their predicament.
"We absolutely cannot allow him to sleep unsupervised. If he is a bandit we'd surely awaken either penniless and stranded, or with our throats slit." Xander says taking out his lute, finding it out of tune, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, exhausted from the sun's summer rays beaming down on him all afternoon.
"Fine. We'll sleep in shifts," Andrew said, clapping his hands together to get rid of the lingering crumbs that wormed their way into unwelcomed areas, he stood and walked toward the wagon, where he grabbed a sleeping bag and tossed it Xander's way. "I'll wake ya up in a could of hours" Andrew concluded as he leaned against the wagon.
Xander sides into the sleeping bag, setting his lute to the side, and mumbles his goodnight as he drifts off into slumber. Andrew keeps an eye on the fire resting his eyes on the soothing dance of the flame as it birthed tiny ember that life fleeted as fast as it began. He looks up staring at the night sky as the empty abyss stares back, the stars wink at him sending him messages of the future and what is to come. The moon now reaching its destination begins softly making its way home. Andrew fought back his dreams, bobbing his head, determined to allow his friend to enjoy rest after agreeing with his pleas. As Andrew loses his battle against his own body a loud snap is heard, he looks all around trying to locate the cause of the sudden noise he finds the brown-haired stranger nowhere to be found. That is until he sees out of the corner of his eye he sees a frightened young man stone cold in fear.
"Hey! Looks like you awoke," Andrew takes a step forward but sensing the young man's fear he steps back, "Hey it's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you I just want to help."
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The brown-haired young man looked at the stranger. His hair is long and as dark as the night, it is as oily as it was unkept, resembling that of the head of a gorgon. His clothing seems to be Impossible as it somehow looks as though it was freshly slaughtered as well as worn for years, he had light armor on which seemed to cover his arms and shoulders, and his face was rugged with a slight stubble while also covered in scars arranged sporadically around the lower part of his face, his eyes that look as dead as his clothing. Even with his image being full of history he didn't seem much older than he was. Hearing his plea the young man looked all through the makeshift camp. A sleeping...creature? is spotted near the dying fire. there is no opening to run but he was determined not to trade one prison for another. thinking quickly he picked up a rock and threw it at the black-haired man and imminently sprinted in the opposite direction. "Hey! Wait! Stop!" He heard behind him but he had no plans of obeying. Quickly he ran through the wilderness not thinking for a moment of his safety. He couldn't allow himself to be someone else's beast. He needed to find him, he needed to throw away his shackles. He cuts through the wilderness until he reaches a clearing, he looks behind him, but the black-haired man is nowhere to be seen, he decides this is a good place to rest, only for a little while so as to not give him time to catch up. As he's capturing his breath a familiar growl is heard behind him only I'm greater quantities, he whips his head around and sees a dastardly pack of wolves. Their fangs bared and resembled daggers, their eyes piercing. They stalk up to the young man as he backs away fearful, his tattoo burning red hot, gaining his freedom from the binds of his old life has given him a greater understanding of his mortality, a new purpose he mustn't die. They begin stalking closer as he tries to remember what the books he studied taught him to do in a time like this, his mind begins foggy with fear, his tattoo scorching making thinking all the harder. As the largest wolf lunges in for the attack. He closes his eyes, accepting his fate.
"God fucking damn it!" The black-haired man cries as the wolf's vice grip of jaws naw on his armor. With all his might he flings the wolves back toward its company and pulls the young man closer behind him "The hell are you thinking?!" He cries as he draws his spear from his side.
A game of persistence and agility takes forth, with both sides trying their best to accomplish their goal. The black-haired man kept a close eye on any wolf trying to strike slashing his spear to admit fright into their hearts.
"You know how to fight?" The man asked hopefully, a quick shake of the head concealed the boy's answer "Ya I was afraid of that"
The boy picks up a large stone, trying to make himself ready for whatever the outcome of this fight will be. As the wolves surround the two it would seem death is inevitable but a call from the top of a large bolder distracts every creature around. There a...Man? Goat? Hybrid? Thing? Stands up high, seemingly calling to the black-haired man.
"COVER YOUR EARS!" he bellowed
The boy reluctant to inhibit his senses looks up at the man with black hair.
"You can trust him he's with me." The black-haired man covers his ears and the boy follows suit.
The...creature, reaches behind him and pulls out a lute. As he strums it a mystical aura surrounds him, golden and beautiful, he steps off the rock and walks closer and closer to the wolves, their once ferrous persona grow soft and timid, their eyes begin drooping and their bodies fall weak, until last one by one they each begin falling asleep to the floor. As the final wolf drops the creature stops playing the mystical aura falling through. Silently as to not awaken the beast they just put to rest they each tip-toed away. the boy keeping an extra tight grasp on the black-haired man.