Sheri
Somewhere deep within the woods, while the sun began to set upon the west of Skyrim, was a Dunmer. Black Robes, a bamboo hat, and sandals. He played on his pan flute, playing a tune that was simply called "Breath of the Grass."

It was a soft, slow, yet powerful tune that softly echoed nearby. The dunmer was sitting on a rock, facing west as he would play his flute.

His camp nearby.
Julius
Nightfall was inbound, and it was time for Orintus to head back home, following a day's worth of 'contained adventure' in and around Dragon Bridge. He promised that he'd just buy some jewelry and go, but found himself doing a mountain of labor just to make up for his insufficient funds; up to and including his natural craft, woodchopping.

But now, he has what he came for, some pocket change, and some extra wood as thanks for the help, all stuffed in his knapsack. He'd be somewhere along the road when- from a distance- he could hear the unmistakable sound of *Music*. Now, he knows that all sorts of dark mages and odd creatures live neck-deep in the forest, but- seeing as how he could easily sprint back the way he came- he decides to press in that direction.

Leaves rustle as the argonian makes his way closer, ever-closer towards the confusingly-dressed Dunmer, clearing his throat as he makes his way up. Thank the divines that he's wearing his normal clothes today, or else he *Might* Come across as a bandit to this stranger.

"...Do people *Usually* Play music neck-deep in the forest, or are you trying to attract bears?"
Sheri
The flute playing stopped, and he gave a soft chuckle.

"Bears only only hunt for bigger animals. Us mortals are not their prefered choice of food, unless they are desperate. Besides, the music more of draws them away; but others..." He paused.

Soon, a squirrel came from and tree and went towards the Dunmer. He sat down, awaiting an acorn to be passed down by the Dunmer whom would gently rub a finger on his head. The squirrel would then climb onto the shoulder of the Dunmer and begin trying to rip apart the acorn.

"Love the music." He would finish.

The dunmer would put the pan flute into his bag, yet he remained seated on the rock. His legs crossed 

"What brings you far from Black Marsh? Strange to see an Argornian in one of the most frigid regions." He asked.
Julius
Orintus would allow himself a glance at the man's flute, his eyes trailing towards the squirrel as it eases its way up to the dunmer, like a lost lamb to its shepherd. He'd be jealous if he wasn't concerned with the negative effects of being a fairytale princess.

"Uh," He's quick to respond, a statement formulating on his lips. "I thought they were hungry for just about anything. They're predators, after all; if I was a bear, I'd probably be going for some poorly traveler."

Probably not the best time to be discussing the concept of bears and predatorial behavior. There's plenty of other things to bring up. Recalling the latest question, Orintus offers up a response in kind.

"...Black Marsh? Like- the place, or-? Ohh, no. No- noooo, no. I'm from *Cyrodiil*, you see- born there, raised there, moved here. First three steps, all part of the Economic Mindset. And, yeah, the environment isn't very... Receptive, nor are the people, but what can you do? Just need to get acclimated."