...mistakes were made [gathering]

This land was quite pretty. He was glad he wandered this way; the lush greenery was a sight to behold, and honestly... it made him a bit homesick for back home... home, where he'd never again be able to venture. As a member of the Scarlatti family, and member of the i Frotelli Rossi, he would be targeted and killed within weeks, if not days. No, there would be no returning home for him.

Sighing softly, his head bowed. It was not often he thought of his family, both blood and cosca, but when it did... the actions of Enrico hit him hard, and it hurt all over again. He was no stranger to murder, nor death, but still the images of his family laying dead and dying was one he'd never forget. It made him burn with a desire to destroy that cosca, and even more so to figure out why Enrico did what he did. Another part of him wished for the impossible - that he could rewind time and undo what happened there.

Commotion thankfully distracted him from his depressing thoughts, and Vittore's head rose to regard the source of the sound. A woman sat there, not far from him, staring into a pool of water. Curiosity piqued him, and he approached rather loudly, giving the woman a notification to his presence. "Posso aiutarti?" He didn't expect her to know Italian - who did in this forsaken land? - but his body language and tone ought to be enough to explain his intentions.