(and forgive me as well - I missed the notification that this was up for responding to - still, no worries, eh? Life happens and things lag at times.)

The figure’s large eyes widened at the sudden outstretching of arms. The act by the chief caused the figure to step back and begin to go into a crouch, fingers sneaking to a belt and the no longer existent blade that had been hung there. Checking itself, the figure stopped and swallowed hard, watching as the leader smiled in welcome.

Now then, all of this worry..

The figure frowned in confusion before swiftly regaining composure. It would not serve to lose selfhood now, so far from home, so close to danger. Had it not been for the manner of the chief to seem so quick to change to this effervescent giving, the waiter would have not lost composure. Rather, there would have been moments of danger and then, if luck were in spades, perhaps an escape.

As it was, the escape might have to wait. Not about to trust in the memoried voice nor the chief’s obvious pleasure, the stranger did not doubt one moment that captivity was just as likely as true invitation. With alacrity, scenarios and old maps were thought over. Was there mention of there being cannibalistic creatures in this wood?

With some surety, coming up with no such reminders of the area, the figure nodded and bowed in a tattered yet dignified manner. Under it all, there lingered a hint of having done such obeisance before and often.

Now then, if it were me, I’d be certain to introduce myself. Be aware of your title, my dearest of friends. Give yourself a high one so that he will know he’s lucky to have you in his midst. They are just primitives, aren’t they? Maybe they won’t know. Maybe they won’t even care. It always amazes me how ..

Drowning out a voice in one’s head could prove to be an act of supreme will yet Al-kin manages it with a smile that was both thin and careful. "You have my thanks. I will take you up on your offer of a meal and perhaps some water. And as much as it grieves me, it would be best that I took my leave of you sooner rather than later. The hounds will have not lost my scent completely."

Alkin!

Hounds. Too tired to hide the wince at the sloppily told truth, the stranger rubbed fingers over dusty palms then gave indication by a short nod that following was within means. "Again, my thanks."

Food, water… something to clean face and hands in. They sounded like luxuries after so long in the forests and riding the river’s roadway. Al-kin was far too worn out to attempt to find more danger in the situation. If they lied, let it be that they lied and those lies would be dealt with accordingly. If they told truth, then it was only a matter of continuing on before any tragedy could be meted out upon them. If they played with the truth as the western folk do, then … well, then all would be looked at and sometime after a rest, perhaps a leave-taking could be arranged if not bought.

Now that the struggle of to run or not was solved for the moment, there was little to hold the stranger back from following this chief and his people anywhere they wished to go, preferably if the short journey had food at the end of it.

__________________

‘What will my death be like?’ he thought- and knew at once
with abrupt certainty, that it would be just like his life:
... the same balance of bearables.
~Amis