[anibus3]

Plot- Firo has never been one to believe in teh stories of dragons and other such beasts, living in the forest away from the protection of a village for most of his life this hermit with a way for medicine is about to get his life thrown around in a strange way.

The plants were growing well and the forest seemed quiet, often a nice thing in Firo's mind. The man was dressed in a long white sleeved shirt with a brown cloak an hood, dark brown pants, and black shoes that had clearly been patched up before. His green eyes glanced about, seeing not a soul nearby as usual. Reaching with his hand, he brushed some of his light brown hair away from his face to keep it out of his way. He needed a haircut honestly, though it was usually a bad idea to do it himself. Well, he'd end up doing it anyway. Adjusting the bag on his shoulder, he stood up and brushed the dirt off of his pants. Picking herbs was no clean matter though it was honestly one he was used to doing. The fingerless gloves he had were rather useless in keeping his hands clean, he could always find dirt on his hands where the gloves were meant to protect.

The sun was starting to set and that was reason enough to start heading home. Still, the quiet of the forest was a good thing during daylight but at night...not so much. Sure he didn't believe in those tales of beasts and such, he just didn't want bandits or the like to come at him. He had that happen once before, barely made it back to his small shamble of a home that time. So, he learned to always start back when the sun was beginning to set. Alas that didn't ease his mind as he paused, thinking he had heard something in the bushes nearby.