89th Fall of 510AV
A comfortable afternoon in Cyphrus, Jarhal crouched by one of the gates with his trusty hound Chural sitting beside him. He would have rather been out doing something, but his strider needed his rest for now. And so there left little for a Drykas to do without his mount, besides being bored. Jarhal had found another way to pass the time: People watching.
To say he hid his glances was a bit much, but he wasn't precisely staring obviously either. Just a quick sizing up of whatever Drykas passed, giving a friendly nod if one should catch his gaze and look back. It was shameful how few people he knew in Endrykas, how much of a stranger he really was to his own people. Even watching the swirling rainbow of colors from green to red to purple to white, the bright clothes denoting the different clans of Drykas, soon grew tiresome.
Raising to a stand, he began to stretch, searching his mind for something else he could go do. Chural began to scratch himself lazily.