Night time was looming, the sky set ablaze by the setting sun in the horizon. A camel lazily walked on by, bumbling as its hooves made their trademark clopping sound against the hard dirt floor. The beast of burden was led by an aged man who couldn't possibly be under the age of sixty. Silver streaks ran amok through his short cut goatee, his grayed hair resting under a wrinkled white and gold sheikh. Leading the camel along, the man was being haggled by another man who dressed similar. They spoke in a language that wasn't very widely known, but few would remember when it was used mainly in the area. They looked like traders at a normal glance, probably haggling about prices for new wares sold on the market. New stuff was being found all over that would make for excellenet items, armors and weapons.
Stannis recognized the attire as that worn by the man with the camel; the "Trader Lords", as what they were called. Those people controlled much of the trading routes in the area, but that wasn't all very important at the moment. Observation-making was his thing, so he felt natural to note such things as they went on. He found himself walking with arms in his pockets, noting that the area was beginning to become empty of potential combatants. Really, Stannis just wanted someone to communicate with, but he'd have to learn the hard way and look around for company himself. He'd come to learn more about the village after his absence, but just not enough to fit back into society. Stannis never felt so reclusive before, but he hoped things would change. Looking back at the sunset it almost reminded him of home.
Almost...