Lost & Found

They observed each other for a time, but ultimately it was the stranger who decided to approach. Mikko raised his head at this, loosely standing his ground as eyes and ears casually followed the other, whom he allowed to decide what distance should remain between them. It didn't go unnoticed how his head had tilted at his words. In fact, the brute knew he likely sounded insane--hells, he already looked the part. He let it go, though, caring little about potential bad impressions. So long as this one wasn't here to carve his initials into his hide, he could think whatever he wanted.

Broken gaze drifted, once again, to their surroundings, but at the stranger's question Mikko merely shook his massive head. He'd never seen such places back home; even the most magnificent places he'd witnessed were carved out by nature itself. "As am I," he rumbled through a quiet sigh. "My traveling companions and I only landed here last season."

A blink, and he turned his attention back onto the other in time to hear his name. Drachen Vaekhal. Brave of him to give his full name, but then again, Mikko wasn't out to make himself into a creature to be feared. At least, not by the likes of him. With a single nod, he committed the name to memory, allowing his own to pass through taut marred lips. "Mikko." Not Romanov. Not Xanthos. Just...Mikko, for now. The rest was on a need-to-know basis.

"So," he continued, monotonously,, after giving Drachen his own turn to absorb his name, "what brings you to strange lands?" Did he have restless feet? Or was he, too, hiding something that he was trying to escape?

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