(The Camp, Somewhere East of the Center.)
Arnold was sitting on a stone platform as he stared at the sky. He had the kind of look that said he was completely famished and didn't know what next to do as a human.
However, it hadn't taken long before two figures approached him. They both had a bow and a quiver and didn't seem to show up with a friendly approach, as usual.
"Hey, shit. Heads up... Time to keep moving," one of them said.
Arnold happened to remain silent, more like he hadn't heard what they said at all, and it was when one of them gave him a smack on the head that he suddenly jolted up, his eyes gleaming in alertness as he stood up at once, turning to them.
When he recognised their faces, he immediately nodded his head, bowed, and walked straight away.
Those were the men in charge of him, or more appropriately, they were the ones in charge of disciplining him until he finally mastered the culture of the Wanderers.
