Everyone seemed to be searching for something, for someone, and Lawrence himself was no exception to the rule. The artist walked slowly, more meandering than truly walking and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. Inside the pockets, long lean fingers with paint until their nails rested, anticipating the moment when they’d feel inspired enough to paint something again. Call it painter’s block, call it too much stress, call it whatever it was - Lawrencre Grimmel had somehow lost the ability to create his life’s work during the past few months. His emotions were tangled up inside him where they would have been previous emptied on to canvases, but nothing, no feeling inside him made him want to paint. It was a sad day when an artist didn’t want to create art. Lawrence sighed and shook his hair back from his face without removing his hands from their denim enclosures.

Usually, the artist was an observant man, but today, his head was further in the clouds that it had ever been before. His long, lanky legs carried him almost nonchalantly down one of the streets of Genil and up another, his muscles now beginning to burn from the inactivity he’d submitted them to. It felt as if he’d lost everything at the direct moment and as if the past itself was playing tricks on him at his expense. He’d discovered horrible things about a dead woman who he still called his fiancée in the back of his mind, had somehow screwed up the almost romance he’d been involved in, and now, his inspiration was entirely done for. With no available way to vent or any sign of hope, he’d become a grumpy man instead of his usual quiet but complacent self.

As Lawrence’s eyes landed on a creature that seemed a bit malicious, he froze in his tracks and glanced around the town square. Unfortunately, it was empty though he would have liked to have seen some of the guards that were usually stationed around the city in these trying days. His dislike for those from the darker cities had only grown fiercer recently as he thought of his almost-wife’s indiscretions that ultimately ended her life. His eyes narrowed as the thing spoke, his eyes glowing menacingly. How long would it take for soldiers to arrive? Too long. Perhaps he could convince it to leave peacefully with the understanding that creatures from Anarab and Nureese were not welcome within the walls of Genil. Lawrence answered the rhetorical question, his hands still clenched in the pockets of his thin jeans.

“I don’t know what it is, but you should take it and leave quickly if it belongs to you.”