The Skein flashes and a lanky human steps through. He wears no armor, just a plain brown shirt and beige pants. He has a silver short sword on his belt, and a single satchel over his shoulder. He holds an Iron one handed spear, with dangling cloth tied to it, and a large bottle in his other hand. He stumbles around, asking people if they know where he could find Miahla.
After about an hour with no luck, he heads back to the Skein gate, and leaves if not interrupted.
Miahla finds him as he is about to leave, having overheard the questions.
"Aye?" The elf tapped his drink shoulder. "Be ye alright?"
He turns his head, and smiles. "Oh! Hello, I assume you're Miahla? I was wondering if you've seen Lark lately..." He says nervously, looking down at the spear he's holding.
Callum can be seen a short distance off from the pair leaning on a tree.
Miahla raised an eyebrow. "Lark? Nae, she didnae come 'ere. I wish she 'ad... but..." Miahla trailed off. "Why? Who be ye tha' knows me name an' be searchin' fer me sister?"
"She's talked about you a lot, I'm a friend of hers, from Jericho." He sighs, "She left off somewhere, and I'm worried.. I wanted to see if she ended up coming here, since I knew YOU were here. She didn't tell me where she was going, and she didn't bring her spear with her either.." His eyes look down to the spear he's holding. "I'm so mad at myself for not following after her.." He says, as his face darkens. "But she wouldn't of wanted that."
"...." Miahla stared at him a few moments. "Name."
"Oh yes! Sorry, I'm Miriam."
"Oh. Miriam." She sighed. "She be mentionin' ye. Fine. Ye can tell me absolutely everythin' 'bout 'er goin' missin', cept privately. Aye?"