Same old house, just the family's changed.
Very rarely did he stop and think that one of his great ideas were bad. But this time he was pretty sure that trespassing on a foreign pack's land, despite his reasoning being perfectly acceptable, was not one of his finest ideas. Nerves filled him, making him overly alert and every sound made him tense, green eyes darting in every direction. His initially bravery draining he took a cautious step back towards Buck, as if the stallion was some sort of mighty shield which would protect him from all evil. Gingerly he rested his left hand upon the horses neck, temptation to re-mount and run away before someone came along was incredibly high and yet before he could make his great escape a strangers scent reached him, soon followed by a warm female voice.
Grasping Buck's reigns he turned both himself and the horse to face the stranger, allowing himself a moment to take in her pale form and listening tentatively to the words she spoke. The strange female named the lands Cercatori d'Arte; a strange and overly complex name to the young Nishant and he wasn't too certain he could pronounce the entire name correctly, she also mentioned some boat and trading. Fidgeting on the spot he couldn't think of any words to speak; truthfully he had crossed the borders for no real reason other than the compulsive urge to break some form of rule, although the other surely couldn't know that. Within one of the bags on Bucks saddle there were some of the trinkets he had.... acquired through less favourable means; not that he ever intended to steal, it just kind of happened before he realised it. Whenever he saw something he liked, something trivial or anything really that caught his eye, one way or another he ended up in possession of the object.
Tightening his grip upon Buck's reigns he decided to follow the females lead. He was going to lie. “I, eerm, I came to trade with the members here” the words were quite and unsure, as if he were shy rather then guilty.
Image courtesy of Jerolek
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