Kharloz sighed, the rider had slowed down and came to a stop at a respectable distance. Combined with the darkening sky and hood the rider was wearing, Kharloz couldn't tell of what blood he was of, but didn't give it a second thought. He was more concerned for getting out of the snow. The rider quickly introduced himself, although he sounded a bit uncaring at first.

"Greetings, Sleeth Uzama. I am Kharloz Daerok, of no particular allegiance." The Orc holds his fist onto his chest, as is the customary Orc greeting of his people. "I realize you probably have something to attend to but I am afraid I appear to be lost in this damned snow. Is it okay if I tag along with you out of this frozen hell? I would be forever grateful."