Neverwinter Forest Spare me your remedial incantations.

The man made his way to a stump, worn down by years of bartering unknown to the boy. He began to dig next to it, and then placed his claimed bone into the hole he made. All the while Lómion watched silently from afar. His ear flicked about, his nose twitched, but he did not move beside that. And the man was none the wiser to his presence.
After months of quiet observation perhaps the boy had grown a natural to it. 
Part of him wishes to stay hidden and continue to watch for as long as he could. But he’d be noticed eventually, so he thought, and would rather avoid that awkward situation.
He could turn now and leave the stranger to his business, but another part of him (an extension of his urge to stay hidden) wanted to know why he roamed around here in the first place.
And so Lómion steps out from his cover. 
I haven’t seen you before. The awkwardness he had attempted to avoid rushes into his nerves. Um, are you one of mother’s friends?