Jere had been so invested in judging the crowd that he had not noticed Adrial approaching him in time- so when the (much, since Jere's like 5'6) taller man approached him, he couldn't help but raise his eyebrows and snap his head up in surprise. He followed Adrial's gaze to Bo as he spoke, complimenting the care he put into the maintenance of his companion. Jere smiled, swelling with pride as he replied to the stranger,
"Jere of Locklear. And this is Bo of some lupine family, not too sure-" The wolf turned his eyes, red like rust, down on to him in warning. Jere patted the wolf, correcting himself,
"Boreas is his name. But I call him Bo for short-" he cleared his throat here, shifting his tone to a more measured one, "but the pleasure is all mine. I've never met a Cleric before."
He didn't mention that he wasn't exactly the most 'careful' fighter in the ring. In fact his tactics were mostly centered around direct confrontation with the enemy- without his mount he was mostly a hands-on fighter, wrestling or fist-fighting his opponents. Although he was sure there was a major difference between wily bandits and demon spawn. The wolf by his side was the strongest creature he had tamed to date and the only reason that he was not covered in scars was because they had teamed up only a few days before.
The elf leaned against Bo and tried his best not to gawk at Adrials clothing. Even in a city as prosperous as Maplestead the streets still sported some dust and grime to them- so it was beyond Jere as to how this man could have possibly kept his clothes so crisp and clean looking. It made him self-concious of his travel and weather-worn clothes, the miskempt blonde hair on his head, and the scuffed boots. By his side Bo was confused as to the discomfort of his rider, pressing feelings of inquiry to him. The tamer ignored him and instead gestured to the feathers at Adrial's elbows,
"Those are your feathers? I don't mean to be rude- but I've never met an elf with feathers." As a man more familiar with plumage and furs than the next, he could easily tell the difference between the fake and real. Even as he said this, however, he felt like he was disrespecting the cleric- he knew from experience that some people did not like some aspects of themselves to be blatantly pointed out like this. He did not know Adrial nor if he exactly cared about his feathers catching the attention of others.
