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Preferably someone who knew Matteo or at least knew of him- which is... almost everybody in the tribe. XD
Days of travel had been put between himself and the artisan girl. He'd enjoyed her company, despite learning nothing more on his father. He would miss her until next they'd meet. He'd made a friend in these strange lands and thus, his journey continued. The view of the land was beautiful, especially from Jericho's back. A few times, inspired, he'd stop to let his muse flow free beside a fire or on a beach. Jericho would get a break and Ink could practice on his new guitar- a find he'd made while visiting Halifax.
The thing was like new, fixed up by the merchant who'd sold it to him. He loved it and now, as he sat on Jericho's back, slowly making their way south, inspiration finally struck just the right chord with him. He was no singer but he wasn't about to break anyone's ears either, and so, he played, and he sang... or, rather, rapped.
The beat of the guitar was sharp and quick, smooth and curved, rocky and clean- just like this new land he was in. He weaved a story with the lyrics of his song, telling his own tale- his mother's death and his arrival in this land became the point of the song. It all spun together in his head and he played the result with few mistakes, no pauses or breaks.
He continued on this song, writing it down and replaying it, as Jericho moved on underneath him. He didn't stop until Jerri did, and suddenly he was staring down at a white fence. What? ...they go on forever. He looked on into the forest nearby, where the fence disappeared into the thick. Smells like a pack. Maybe they'll know something? The horse cuffed the ground with her foot and stepped back, letting her rider hop down so she could graze at the soft grass below. Only one way to know. With that, the boy howled, calling for a listening ear and hopefully, a friendly face.