So Raven followed the stranger as he strode through the village, watched as his sharp eyes cut into those around him. His gaze lingered upon her own; Raven could feel it trace the lines of her skin. There was something more than lust than desire, in the stranger's eyes, a vicious mind hiding beneath the veil of civility. This man was not like any other.

With this in mind, Raven smiled and turned her back on the stranger, knowing that it would only fuel his interests in her. As Raven walked among the stalls to a brewery set up on the edge of the village, she thought to herself:

I came from Wolf's mountains with my solitude weighing heavily upon my soul; perhaps this stranger may help provide context for my warring thoughts?