A few seconds after the drop-gate at Timber Moren activated, a young man walked out, wearing a dirty, jaded vest over a slightly oversized shirt with the sleeves folded back up above his elbows. A short strap went over from his left shoulder down to his right side where he had his bag. The newsboy cap on his head could easily go unnoticed, blending in with his bright yellow hair. His shorts went just below his knees, and just under it, his socks were pulled up so that little skin was seen on his legs. He held an old leather suitcase with both hands behind his back. After he took a few steps away from the drop-gate, he stood perfectly still, his face white as though all the blood from his cheek had been drained. As he was about to walk to the horse waiting for him, he stumbled forward and ran quickly into a corner, bending forward and hurling half the breakfast he had that morning into a trash.
"Oh god..." he muttered in disgust. He rubbed his lips on his forearm, careful not to get anything on his gloves or clothes. He looked back over to where the horse was and flashed a weak smile before digging the card from the letter out of his bag to ready it as he walked to the horse.
Nightwing95
