Looks at the person speaking to him as if trying to decide whether or not to answer.

In a quiet voice, and with a sideways glance around the rest of the room, he leans forward a bit and replies...

" I am the one known as nothing more than a passing shadow. I am unknown to this land. Whether I choose to remain so is yet to be determined. "

With this, Anh'rak sits back in his seat and, resuming his watchful pose, returns to the shadows.

::He could feel that burning gaze of that when someone stares upon you, but he paid no heed. Don't be mistaken, this would only rise his awareness of the going ons around him. It was well known now, he had been noticed. He sighed softly as he closed his eyes; giving himself that deeper concentration of what was taking place around him. The red haired vixen who seemed to perplexed by his unknown appearance, the one who spoke to her, and even the happy-go-lucky old guy who moved in the direction of the basement. Still, none of these events would cause him to move. Beneath his cloak, and to the right side, his digits would clasp around his small, twisted blade. He wasn't looking for trouble but if it by chance found him; it wouldn't find him unprepared.::

....

::His eyes slowly opened again, as his eyes again focused out the window. They would narrow slightly as a smirk glistened the corner of those ashen tiers. My, what one could see in mere reflections. However, his eyes would lower once more as he took one last drink, finishing his brew.::

::Deep blue auras narrowed slightly, as that head turned slightly peering out from beneath that all black hooded attire. Though it may seem he watched the man enter, in reality he stared at that staff. He hadn't seem many of those around but still knew what it could possibly imply about those who wielded one.::

::Not desiring to attract further attention, his gaze shifted away again and back out the window, remaining slouched within the darkness of the windowsill; his chair of choice. Then, he began to ponder over what that one old man once told him about wizards and the such. His eyes lowered and closed once again. Blast the Goddess, he hated reminiscing in what once was. With memories like his, it was no wonder he was disattached from people. He would love more than anything to just back to that time...::

::He peered over with blues to the woman as she dragged in the dead carcass of a wolf. He took a deep breathe, as he contemplated in saying something but that was far from his nature and not to mention, what good would it do now?::

::Wolves only howled for three reasons, in his knowledge. When food is around for the pack to rally together, when they are looking for their mate, or when their entire pack is dead, gone, or missing. His hand rose that mug to his tiers taking another lasting gulp, draining it of all its contents, as the contemplation ensued. He would need a refill, but now with so many around, could he truly go unnoticed? Contact with someone was now inevitable. He shook his head as he shoved off from his window sill. To hell with it, he thought, as he moved quickly in the direction of the bar.::

::Setting down the empty glass, he refrained even now from saying a word; though those eyes glanced down and to the side to first gaze across the trail of blood on the floor but then to the man's staff, where they stayed for a moment as he sighed softly to himself once more. His gaze finally came to a rest upon the red-haired woman, but he said nothing. the mug was set back in front of him, now filled, as he merely nodded and tossed down a few coins as he turned and moved back to his isolated paradise in the window sill.::

::Was he slipping? Or maybe he was too lost in his own wave of deep thoughts, but he hadn't noticed the man until his venture back from the bar. A man of the shadows, just like him. those blues narrowed beneath his hood, yet firm in his stature, he said nothing. That glance in his direction was momentary and his direction never altered. As he found his way to the window sill, he made another mental note to keep that one known.::

::Not self declaring the two would engage in any form of contest of duel; but in being one of those who loved the shadows, he also had learned those were the ones you never took your eyes off of.::

*gets, walks around the Inn. No one she knows has been here. She starts to worry a little.*

The door opens and a cloaked man slowly walks into the tavern. His crafted staff seems to carry his weight more than usual. He sits at the bar for a moment before grabbing a set of keys. He slowly stands and walks to the foot of the stairs and leans against the railing, with a quick downward twist on his staff a long howl was emitted. Through the door a large grey wolf runs in and stops at his side. He then slowly climbs the stairs and makes his way to the room. He enters his room and sits on the bed. He points to the door and the wolf lays in the door way at guard. He notices a window and opens it slightly, letting out a loud whistle in comes a very large raven. He perches on the post of the bed. The man lays back in the bed attempting to take the cloak off, but before he succeeded he past out.

By now there is a small blood spot where he lays. The wolf at the door and raven the raven on the post still guarding him. The cloak half undone reveling multiple gashes across his chest and stomach.

*smiles, sighs to herself when she see Daeron come in.* Sleep well *she tells him before he heads up*

The wolf looks up at his friend and whines a bit. The raven hops down and un does his cloak the rest of the way. Reveling just how bad his wounds are. The wolf gets up and trots to the edge of the stairs. Looking around the inn he spots a familiar face. He looks straight at her and starts to let a low deep growl out and howls a little bit.

*looks to the wolf, walks to the bottom of the stairs* Well hello boy, whats going on? Something wrong?

He walks down the stairs. And looks at her growling and whimpering a little. He sees an oppertunity and reaches out and grabs her arm in his mouth. He starts tugging and pulling her.

What? *She follows the wolf, trying not to move her arm so she will not get cut*

The wolf walks up the stairs and let's go of her arm. He runs to a open door and sits in front of it whining. The raven is on the bed with her wings spread bobbing up and down very anxiously. She has what appears to be wrappings and herbs in front of her.

*sees Daeron's wounds* Oh no *she walks over to him* What happen? *she sits on the edge of the bed*

No response came from him. He just laid, breathing heavily. The raven, walked over to Tiage. She droped some wrappings in her lap and a few mixed herbs and let out a small noise. She began to bob up and down again.

*she takes the herbs an wrapping, not to sure what to do she cleans up the blood with a small piece of wrapping. Places some herbs on the wounds, then wraps the wounds up. She goes down stairs to get some warm water, she returns with the water. She takes the extra wrapping soaking it in the water then places it on his forehead. She sets the cup down, runs her hand through his hair, humming softly. hoping to calm him down*

The raven stops being so anxious as she hears the humming. She coks her head to the side looking at Tiage. She walks over beside Daerons head and rests her head on his shoulder and seemingly laying down. The wolf lays in the door looking at Tiage with the same expression. Then he goes back to guarding the entrance. Daeron has a painful look on his face, still breathing heavily. He clenches the the bed with his hand and then let's up after a minute.

*starts to get worried.* I know it hurts Daeron.. I wish I could easy your pain. *she kisses his forehead, trying to think of something to easy the pain*

It was more of a dream, but there was no difference. He turned his head quickly to the side reveling a scar that ran vertically on his throat. He clinched the bed again but more aggressively. His breathing became more rapid, the wolf raised his head up and whined slightly.