This time was a little different than the last time he'd chosen to wander off from the safety of Carjen's lands. He knew the head cook by name and had asked the night before if she would put something together for him. He had little interest in hunting despite the predatory nature of his beast. He'd also been taken aside by one of the older weres at one point and in light of that discussion and to practice what Carjen had been teaching him, he'd put together a small leather bag just large enough to hold a ratty set of clothes and the food the cook gave him.

It wasn't exactly easy or comfortable to figure out how to wear it once he was four-footed, but considering his control of his shape was tenuous it made sense to carry such things. So out he'd gone, plunging into the wild. For a while, he'd just walked. Trotting aimlessly here and there, watching birds nest and resisting the urge to chase them. Instead he gave them a wide berth, hide when he came to a road and heard people on horseback passing, then crossed it at a run. By nightfall, he'd plunged into wilderness he wasn't as familiar with. He'd managed a change back to human, eaten, and settled in for the night in a hollow between tree roots. The cooling air of summer rushing towards fall made him shiver and his own watchfulness meant that his sleep wasn't restful but he didn't mind. Being out, being able to do whatever he pleased- there was a terrifying headiness to it. When he woke in the morning though and set out, he did not reach the road he had crossed the previous day. Not in the time he thought it would take at least.

His bare feet, callused from rarely seeing shoes, paced quietly across the leaf litter avoiding stones and dry branches that might snap or cause untoward noise. His was a prey animal's caution, tempered by the edge of hunter's patience. Nor did the minor pangs of hunger bother him. Carjen seemed interested in keeping his people well fed and Farid was no exception. A day or two without food would not inconvenience him too badly. With the increased flesh on his bones, the reedy boy that Carjen had saved was beginning to look the part of a young man, slim an wiry, skin tanned between the grey marks of scars of the rich tapestry of freckles.

Before long, his nose caught the scent of water and he turned towards it. At the very least, water was a good thing to have while he figured out his next move. He soon found himself at the edge of a clearing that held a lovely water feature and another man. Farid hesitated, lingering at the edge of the clearing, wondering whether or not he dared approach. His fingers tightened on the short strap of his small bag where it slung over his shoulder, now empty. After a moment he moved forward, still hesitant and careful. He kept a good distance between himself and the stranger, watching him from the corner of his eye even as he knelt to cup water from the fresh pool.

The sensitive hearing of the werebeast caught the mumbled words easily, though he took little note of anything more than their sound- they were not directed at him, and did not sound like anger or a threat. So he simply watched the dark skinned man from beneath the veil of his lashes as he slaked his thirst and minded his own business. He glanced up briefly to get a reckoning of the sun, to try and figure out which way to get back home.

Uzo's words and introduction brought his attention quickly back to the larger man, not quite looking at him directly. He kept his eyes downcast out of habit, though his attention was focused quite strongly on the stranger. His body had gone still when he was addressed, tense with familiar anxiety that pressed on the tenuous bonds of his control that kept him crouched on two legs and not four. It was a little too long before he responded, grasping for words. Social ettiquete had never exactly been taught to him and the short time under Carjen's care had done little for him in that area except, perhaps, improve his manners.

"I'm Farid." There. An introduction was safe enough.  His voice was soft, just loud enough to be easily hard.

Even with the distance between them and the man sitting down, Farid could judge the difference in their sizes. Still he stayed where he was as the man began to sing, head cocked a little as he listened. Music had been rare in his life- anything besides the occasional drunken refrain. Then his eyes were drawn to the water and he shrank back a wary step from the edge of the pool. His attention glanced between the mage- for that was surely what he was- and the water, back and forth as he tries to keep an eye on both until the water stilled. His fear, strangely, was far greater of the man himself than of his magic. The movement of the water had only startled him and roused some portion of his curiosity which seemed to grow stronger each day.

"No." In the same wary, soft spoken tone the reply didn't hold any hint of sharpness or rebuke. It was simply an answer, quick and succinct. His tongue ran out to wet his lips, a nervous habit. His fingertips rested lightly on the dirt in front of him for balance in his crouch. "Are you?" He asked the question carefully, head turned slightly away from the mage until he only watched him from the corner of his eye.

He'd heard a little of Lledrith and of mages, but had never actually met one. He had so little frame of reference for them that it didn't mean much. Only that they could do unusual things. The compliment only spurred a slow blink from the werebeast, confusion hand in hand with caution. He had so rarely recieved compliments and usually they weren't in situations where he benefited from the attention. So, with more confidence then he really had, he got right to the heart of the matter.

"What do you want?" Why else would anyone engage with him. One hand lifted, nervously tugging at the collar of the oversized shirt he wore. A hand-me-down from someone else at the keep. It gaped at the neck and the sleeves had been unceremoniously cut short, so it did little to hide the heavy band of grey scar tissue around his neck, no any of the other scars that cut through the mosaic of freckles Uzo had admired.

Farid watched him, at a loss of what to say. A compliment? He backed away slightly, retreating from the edge of the water and back towards the forest. His skin itched as his anxiety pushed the edged of his tenuous control. He wanted to run. He didn't know where he was but thoughts of asking for directions had quite fled his mind. Fur burst from his skin as his body shrank and changed.

The striped hyena fought its way free of the entangling clothes, panic causing the long mane of hair along his spine to lift dramatically. Perhaps it was meant to be intimidating, but Farid wasn't good at that part of being a predator. Frankly, he wasn't good at most parts. He stared dismayed at the clothes and bag left on the ground, mind racing. He couldn't leave them. They weren't his (at least, not in his mind). He didn't own anything. What would happen if he showed back up without them? A low, anxious whine escaped him.