The trouble with travelling without a map is often becoming lost. There’s something to be said about the adventure though. Various people are met, and new places are discovered. Today, it seems to be a people day. Or person. The young goddess, in the guise of a mortal with a dirty dress from living off the land, approaches the figure, waving her arm out to call attention to herself. “Pardon, pardon! Please, tell me where I am? Or the nearest city, if you please,” she calls until coming to a halt in front of the other.
Attention is drawn to the hand that waves about with such fervor, voice calling out to claim the mercenary’s awareness for its own. Were the garb donned by the other any proclamation of status, surely a more timid approach were to be expected, as it were clear to be seen that she was a warrior (if by any other name.) Natheless, steel gaze fixates itself upon the stranger, a certain amount of curiosity apparent in the subtle quirk of a brow. Meager meal is set off to the side, fingers knitting together and resting ‘gainst bent knees.
Even as they draw their advance to a close before her, there’s no voice to rise from the column of her throat; an index finger, instead, rises to gesture further down the road in response. Gently, she gestures in the direction from whence the traveler had been walking, as from what she knew, only walking that selfsame track would bring you to the nearest town.