<img style="" src="http://i1105.photobucket.com/albums/h341/ratoly/fada4433-6d65-4b2a-8c4e-b7c643e89c8f.jpg" style="max-width:100%;float:left;]Cauldo was normally observant, but apparently he'd been lost in his thoughts. He didn't even notice the figure approaching him, perhaps because they were behind him, perhaps because he was simply not as observant as he once thought. He turned, glancing over his shoulder at the one who had spoken, red lenses glinting in the rapidly descending sun. Behind the frame, Cauldo narrowed his eyes. Judging by the attire, this one wasn't exactly in need. Not a scavenger then. Then things were worse. At best, they were simply a wanderer like him, but at worst... they could be a raider. A scout for a caravan. Even a dreg. He gritted his teeth and turned fully to face her.
"No."
With that, he stepped forward, meaning to meet up with this one and figure out what their deal was. Wrapped up feet carried him faster than his disease would imply, and despite their distance, it wouldn't be long before he was within arm's reach if she didn't react to him. If she pulled a weapon or similar, he'd merely stop, raising both hands. After all, his only goal had been to get closer. Get a better look at her.
Her clothes didn't tell him much, but his experience was limited. She was clean though, relatively, and that meant she wasn't a dreg. Cauldo didn't know what she was, and despite this, he knew he needed to figure out a way to disengage. The risk of her deciding he was a threat, or worse, reporting his existence to the caravan she may have been scouting for, was just too great. But then, if she was part of a caravan, he may just have had a chance at getting in on that. If he was willing to bloody his hands, he could be set for a long while. If not, perhaps they were more friendly than the usual caravaneers. Cauldo bit his lip gently, folding his arms across his chest as he thought.
Any caravan large enough to have a scout must have been worth taking, if he was able to. However, that meant more defenses. If he slipped up, he could end up dead. Perhaps diplomacy was worth a shot. Cauldo was running dangerously low on options, near as he was, and even them knowing he was around was virtually a death-sentence in his mind. If he showed his back, he had no guarantee he wouldn't be breathing through a bullet or an arrow in his lung. Hell, even if he'd run when addressed, he had little chance of evading a dedicated search.
No, this was his option, and he had to make due, much as he hated it. His gloved hands relaxed and slipped from his elbows and fell to rest at his sides, idling there, fingers just able to touch the bottoms of the sheathes on his weapons. If things turned ugly, she'd be in the ground, and then he'd be gone by the time the rest of her crew found her.
"No."
With that, he stepped forward, meaning to meet up with this one and figure out what their deal was. Wrapped up feet carried him faster than his disease would imply, and despite their distance, it wouldn't be long before he was within arm's reach if she didn't react to him. If she pulled a weapon or similar, he'd merely stop, raising both hands. After all, his only goal had been to get closer. Get a better look at her.
Her clothes didn't tell him much, but his experience was limited. She was clean though, relatively, and that meant she wasn't a dreg. Cauldo didn't know what she was, and despite this, he knew he needed to figure out a way to disengage. The risk of her deciding he was a threat, or worse, reporting his existence to the caravan she may have been scouting for, was just too great. But then, if she was part of a caravan, he may just have had a chance at getting in on that. If he was willing to bloody his hands, he could be set for a long while. If not, perhaps they were more friendly than the usual caravaneers. Cauldo bit his lip gently, folding his arms across his chest as he thought.
Any caravan large enough to have a scout must have been worth taking, if he was able to. However, that meant more defenses. If he slipped up, he could end up dead. Perhaps diplomacy was worth a shot. Cauldo was running dangerously low on options, near as he was, and even them knowing he was around was virtually a death-sentence in his mind. If he showed his back, he had no guarantee he wouldn't be breathing through a bullet or an arrow in his lung. Hell, even if he'd run when addressed, he had little chance of evading a dedicated search.
No, this was his option, and he had to make due, much as he hated it. His gloved hands relaxed and slipped from his elbows and fell to rest at his sides, idling there, fingers just able to touch the bottoms of the sheathes on his weapons. If things turned ugly, she'd be in the ground, and then he'd be gone by the time the rest of her crew found her.
The mind is a fantastic, dangerous place. Don't go alone.
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