One Year Later
The sunlight felt amazing on my face as I slowly awakened, my back sore from laying on the moss-covered rocks beside the stream. I stretched like a cat, the warm summer air my blanket and the chirping birds my alarm. I sat up and looked around, alone as usual.
My beard was coming in nicely, thanks for asking. It was now thick enough that the cool wintery air of the mountains didn’t bite as fiercely when I went to gather berries from the garden caves. My normally pale skin had tanned under the sun of summer and my usual garb of leathers and cloth were uncommonly clean, since Cain insisted I had to be smartly dressed for the grand opening of his dream. I crawled over to the river and dunked my head in, drinking the cool, clean water in mighty gulps and washing my hair and face simultaneously.
Since I haven’t yet introduced myself, allow me to do so now. Manfred Chundles is the name, though everyone calls me Manny. Don’t ask about the last name; I don’t know how I got it and I don’t have anyone I can ask, so it is what it is. I’m pretty tall for a human, a good several inches over six feet, with long blonde hair that hangs in thick, wavy strands down over my shoulders, though I do tend to tie it up with some leather cord to keep my eyes free. I’m also a Druid.
You know the sort of thing, animal and plant talker, communing with nature, all that jazz. I find it is simply much easier to exist within the natural world than deal with the hustle and bustle of civilization, and since I could remember, I found myself at home in the forests of the world. I wouldn’t say I’m a full hermit, though, since I am a member of the Portmint Adventurer’s Guild, in case you needed the reminder.
I stood from the stream and stretched, absentmindedly tying my hair up in a quick ponytail which hung between my shoulder blades. I looked around, hungry for something small and quick to nosh before I made my way into town. A handful of berries and some dried fish jerky I had cured recently were enough to sustain me on the slow meander into town. Yes, I eat meat. Perhaps that is counter to what you perceive a man of the natural world to partake in, but my personal view is as long as you only take what you need, meat is perfectly fine to consume. Would you tell a bear or wolf they couldn’t eat meat? No, of course not. It is part of the natural order, and I would be amiss to believe myself above it.
Speaking of prey, a deer dashed across the trail before me, sporting a handsome rack of antlers. He stopped, and turned a stern eye upon me as I tore into another piece of fish jerky. The deer, tan furred with some white spotting, pawed the ground under their hoof with purpose and tossed their head back, a small bowtie visible under their chin.
“Manny, come on, we are going to be late.” The deer whined, anxiously tapping their hooves on the ground. I smiled at my long-time friend, Jefferson, and patted their back warmly.
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