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( Cut for introspection, doot doot doo )
[Days away and he'd intended to remain so for awhile longer but the fall of snow urges him back to the village. Bundled along with his camping gear on his back are furs that need to be trimmed and roots, dried meat and bundles of flesh from what animals he'd trapped and butchered while hunting. It's a fairly sizable stash of hunting loot if he did say so himself, and he's far too much to keep to himself. Perhaps after he cleans up he'll offer the finished furs or bits of wrapped meat to his neighbors, or any that stop him along his path. He waves his way in from the south, past the battle dome and up through the plaza to stop in the grocery store for a few vegetables, perhaps a bottle of wine to go with the meat he's still carrying, and then he makes his way back to community house 7.
The normally boisterous and cheerful elf is weary and quiet, without any quick smile or laugh to crack at those he passes. His leathers are grubby from time in the woods, his boots scuffed, his hair a loosely braided mess. He'll make conversation if someone engages him, and he will be polite enough, perhaps even offer a cutlet of venison or dirty joke if the company is pleasant.]
[Days away and he'd intended to remain so for awhile longer but the fall of snow urges him back to the village. Bundled along with his camping gear on his back are furs that need to be trimmed and roots, dried meat and bundles of flesh from what animals he'd trapped and butchered while hunting. It's a fairly sizable stash of hunting loot if he did say so himself, and he's far too much to keep to himself. Perhaps after he cleans up he'll offer the finished furs or bits of wrapped meat to his neighbors, or any that stop him along his path. He waves his way in from the south, past the battle dome and up through the plaza to stop in the grocery store for a few vegetables, perhaps a bottle of wine to go with the meat he's still carrying, and then he makes his way back to community house 7.
The normally boisterous and cheerful elf is weary and quiet, without any quick smile or laugh to crack at those he passes. His leathers are grubby from time in the woods, his boots scuffed, his hair a loosely braided mess. He'll make conversation if someone engages him, and he will be polite enough, perhaps even offer a cutlet of venison or dirty joke if the company is pleasant.]
