"It's a gift, there's no reason to think of paying for it," Haaf answered with a smile in regard to the mead. He became pensive as the other man provided both his name and what he was looking for in quick succession. Haaf had thoughts on both, but for a moment he wrestled with which one to comment on first. In the end, the reference to the party at the table won and he glanced back over his shoulder to have a look. There was so much going on there drawing his eyes from person to person taking them in from his floor seat near the fire and Will Riot.<br/><br/>Another quick mental switch happened. "Will Riot," he stated with a bright smile and light laugh. "That seems like such a contradiction in words and..." he made an odd hand gesture conveying he had no word for the last part of his statement. "The<i>will</i>is such a directed and intended thing, but a<i>riot</i>is all chaos and crazy, right? Aside from that, you don't feel very riot-y or willful, at least not in the..." Another hand gesture indicated he didn't have a word for what he was trying to say.<br/><br/>He looked back over his shoulder at the people again, each one giving him a distinct impression. He knew they were what he was looking for, but as for why, it was a mystery. There was little about them that felt obviously compelling. Their energies were magical and mixed and in more than half of them, their appearance was only half the story. At the conclusion of his little silent survey, he decided that the least dangerous of them all was the man who looked the most dangerous, the knight while his companion next to him was probably the most dangerous; magical through and through.<br/><br/>His attention was steered away with Will's motion and words.<i>I'm a good scout. </i>The words were simple and straightforward. Nothing more than a statement of a profession; a good scout. But, there was something deeper in them that tapped at the doors of Haaf's strong intuitions. He couldn't make predictions or read minds, or anything like that, but his natural affinity to healing gave him insight into pain, sickness, and hurt. There was a pain in Will Riot's words that instantly tugged at Haaf's heart. What could be so wrong with being a good scout? What meaning did that have beyond the simple definitions of the words themselves?<br/><br/>He'd all but forgotten the party at the table as his eyes searched the man's features for more answers. It was like still waters running deep and answers seemed to be far at the bottom. He didn't know, he couldn't know unless he somehow came to know Will Riot much better. Was that the reason he was here? He looked into his half-empty cup; no answers there. He looked back over to the party at the table; no answers there either. Maybe there were answers on the paper that had been brought out.  That wouldn't help him much since he'd had little reason to learn how to read and so never really had. Everything in books and on papers had come from the world, so why not just experience the world where you could see things through your own eyes instead of someone who wrote them?<br/><br/>He looked back to Will Riot. Pain and apprehension. Haaf decided right then why he'd been called to that place. It was clear to him. He quickly stood, resolute with jaw set firm, proud, and a little upturned as he made his bold statement.<br/><br/>"And I am Haafmun and I am with Will Riot. I'm not a good scout....or a scout at all...<i>or</i>a Halfling," he concluded with a resolute stomp of his foot and a jingling of the bells around his ankle. "I go where he goes."