Deepwood Weald let the dead bury the dead and they'll come out in droves

The attention of the stranger had been acquired, though he’d noticed the suddenness of her movements. Realizing what he’d done, the Greek flashed an apologetic smile, having not meant to startle her. He’d said nothing as he was watched, his focus having gone into moving forth until he stood but a handful of yards away, at which point he’d stopped. Whilst she remained cautious, he was anything but; Alastor’s tail swayed behind him lazily and his posture maintained an open and friendly appearance, a smile never far from his lips. A part of him—the part that recalled every second of his kidnapping from so long ago—thought it wise to remain cautious and ensure that he did not fall into a trap. Yet, in spite of that little voice’s echoes, he’d not presented himself in said manner. To see the good in others was a skill that his mother had taught him, as well as something that he still held dear. If he were to judge someone based on appearances alone, well… it was unlikely that he’d have ever made friends in the past.

With a dip of his head, the male broke the silence, saying, “I saw you from a distance, and noticed that we seem to be heading in the same direction.” However strange it might be to simply approach a stranger without any real reason to do so was lost on him, thus he’d not apologized for it. “I’ve always found that seeing new sights with a partner is better than seeing them alone,” he’d continued, offering more of an explanation. “That being said, would you mind it if I were to join you?” It wouldn’t be for too long, seeing as he had to return to the mountain at some point or another. No matter, even if it were to be a short trip, he favoured the idea of finishing it with a partner more so than doing the same whilst alone.