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From his seat in the shadows Dantes watched the figure go about his business, and enjoy his wine and watch the minstrel. To the casual observer he was relaxing, but Dantes could see otherwise. His eyes were always moving, casing the place, and sizing things up. The only one taking things a bit too seriously. This must be the hunter he'de overheard others talking about. The one that the town had sent for. The Hunter hears a voice inside his mind. "I am Dantes, you will joining me to fight the demons I hear. A brave one indeed. Will you not come join me for some wine so we may get better aquainted? I've got a fine bottle of an excellent 800 year old elven vintage."
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Now the swinging bridge<br />Is quieted with creepers. . . <br />Like our tendrilled life. -Basho
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