The Bracken Woods Where Shadows Lie

Lavender eyes disappeared into obscurity before reappearing like amethysts in the dark as Shroud merely blinked. Well, the other had given him courtesy and provided a name. Perhaps it was only fitting he try to observe some social norms.

"Shroud," he offered plainly.

Slowly, casually, the young man emerged from his bramble nest, allowing the luxury of a (careful) stretch before fully extricating himself.

A rite of passage? Curious, and Silas was nothing if not curious. Not in a malicious or conniving manner, no, but more of as a characteristic of one that had a healthy intellect and not enough of an outlet in which to channel it.

"Oh? Then we have something in common, it seems, for I daresay I rarely engage in discourse with others," the caped man replied, his manner of speaking and tone both eerily monotonous. 

He paused. He was rather curious about the other's business in these parts, but it wasn't his intention to pry. After all, Silas would have found it quite bothersome himself if someone else thrust their nose into his affairs.

"I'm a simple itinerant. I'd heard rumors of these lands and came to see for myself if they were valid."