10th Bell of the 73rd Day in the Winter Season of 515 AV
Ermir wandered into Garthos Supply, dressed in his usual riding attire, which left no part of his torso to the imagination. His scars and burns were openly visible as he began to peruse the tent's stock of meats. He frowned in a bit of worry, he knew meats wouldn't be enough, but it's all he had the coin for. He stood there in thought for a good while, seemingly staring, quite insanely, at the salted pork.
His mind raced through the possibilities of what he could do. Racing was out of the question, there wasn't one on that day. He'd have to resort to foraging, but he knew he'd have to get some help. He kept looking around the tent, trying to distract his thoughts so that he might gain a bit of insight into the conundrum he was having.