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The soft snapping of twigs brings Zarvak back to the world of the living. Eyes slowly opening, his head tilting back, his brown eyes peer outwards to look for what caused the sound. Zarvak is rather cautious, or perhaps just paranoid. Eyes darting about for what woke him up. Spotting only rabits, he shakes his head.

"Just a rabit..." He mutters to himself, rather sluggishly getting to his feet. Zarvak's scabbard's move about at his sides, the hilts are poorly done, signs that the swords are not of any value.

Zarvak starts to move southwards, heading towards the town, he believes, is called 'Hartland'. A map neatly tucked away along his belt, which, as the rest of his clothes, seem low quality. He has either been planning this trip for along time, or a spur of the moment idea. Most likely a sudden choice, as his outfit and supplies hint towards a foolish traveller.

Glancing skywards, he takes note of the cloudless sky. The sunlight shining down on his face, not doing much besides blinding him for a few moments. Grumbling something about the sun being too bright, he decides to stop looking over everything and just head to town.

(rabit=rabbit, going back requires me to think more then needed.)

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Note Number:	56	Author:	Zarvak
Date:	Sun Jul 21, 2002; 23:19:52	To:	All
Subject:	The Wanderer
The soft snapping of twigs brings Zarvak back to the world of the living. Eyes slowly opening, his head tilting back, his brown eyes peer outwards to look for what caused the sound. Zarvak is rather cautious, or perhaps just paranoid. Eyes darting about for what woke him up. Spotting only rabits, he shakes his head. "Just a rabit..." He mutters to himself, rather sluggishly getting to his feet. Zarvak's scabbard's move about at his sides, the hilts are poorly done, signs that the swords are not of any value. Zarvak starts to move southwards, heading towards the town, he believes, is called 'Hartland'. A map neatly tucked away along his belt, which, as the rest of his clothes, seem low quality. He has either been planning this trip for along time, or a spur of the moment idea. Most likely a sudden choice, as his outfit and supplies hint towards a foolish traveller. Glancing skywards, he takes note of the cloudless sky. The sunlight shining down on his face, not doing much besides blinding him for a few moments. Grumbling something about the sun being too bright, he decides to stop looking over everything and just head to town. (rabit=rabbit, going back requires me to think more then needed.)