Ofnir lowered his sword and leaned on the staff, exhaling in some mixture of relief and elderly custom which said the elderly had to exhale exactly like that.
”Nor would one wear such a frame as mine, Vamyr,” he said.
”Yet, here I am...” The birch staff blinked white once and then went to normal.
He knew he played
that card quickly and he knew it, letting the stranger know so soon and so bluntly what he was.
As if the appearance suggested anything else... he thought. Nevertheless, it was better to intimidate now then to fight later on. Looking the stranger in the eyes, he savored the impression and went through the details in his mind: Gondorian armor and a bastard sword for tall folks of that ancient race, a scar, and a face of someone far from home. He came closer, putting the sword away. He cocked his head aside and whistled to Ellaryn who he knew was up to no good.
”No rude impressions, please, little friend,” he said and went forward.
And a hunter going for the bear she is, too... There must be a grain of truth in that old wives' tale.”How about we start over? This land does not go easy on the soul, and makes all edgy. Especially when meeting another on the road not even beasts want to walk now.” He raised his head towards the distance behind the stranger, towards the mountains.
”That's where we are headed, and so are you, it seems -- chasing the bear, as you say. You're lucky.” Or maybe not. If you but knew what is upon this band, he thought. With that he went back to his horse and mounting it told her:
”You can come with us while our paths are the same; but I am afraid they will soon part. I cannot yet share what our destination is, but that can change on the road, if we form a bond. In that case we may yet go together much farther than you think. The hours go by, we've spent a lot of time here. Let's ride, then, and lunch together later. We'll all be much friendlier with fuller stomachs.”