Jakel was almost always running. Once in a great long while...he runs from his own shadow. Not because he thinks it is someone else. No he has much more mysterious reasons for doing so. He had traveled very far from home. And he never once looked back. Not like he was missed anyways. He hadn't been in the USA for many years now. Not quite a decade yet but it felt very long. His life in the United States...felt like such a very long time ago. Felt more like a dream than reality. When he was traveling between towns he'd learned to scavange. Gather berries, nuts, herbs and edible plants. Sure it wasn't always a filling meal...but it was better than starving to death. When in a place populated by people...he would do magic tricks. Illusions and other types of magic tricks. So realistic at times it was hard to know whether it was make believe...or if it was real. Though who would believe it was true magic...even if it was?<br/><br/>He enters the town from the very far side. He played various magic tricks. Card tricks and pulling coins from behind peoples ears. Multiplying ball tricks. And many others. He traveled through town. Earning money here and there. He needed just enough for a room and a bite to eat. His stomach growled and he had to fight not to scowl at it. He knew he was hungry...he didn't need his body to keep telling him so. He finds a spot in the center of town. He sets up a cup and starts his own night time act. Eating a hot pepper and then breathing fire. He rarely talked yet his actions spoke volumes. He drew crowds merely by being mysterious. And even more just by mystifying. He zoned out during those times. When he was the magician...he had no fear. He even decided tonight to pull a rabbit out of his ear. He didn't have a hat so he'd had to adapt that magic act. Though it had the desired effect.<br/><br/>For him it was but a few moments when it had been a few hours. He finished his act with a bow. And retrieved his cup. And disappeared into the shadows. He didn't even wait for the crowd to disperse. He never did. Too many chances of being hurt. He never stayed in a place very long. Always felt a need to keep traveling on. It was like a tug on his heart. A voice in his ear. It was always there guiding him on. He found an inn-tavern type place and for once he didn't feel that urge to keep moving on. He didn't think on it long. His stomach growled to remind him he needed to find something to eat. He entered the tavern type place. Heard cards shuffling and lots of people talking. Had he not been too hungry he'd most likely have bolted. It was a very frequent battle. Between himself and his fears. This time though...it was his stomach who got the final vote. He went up to the bar. "Your house special and a bottle of vodka." he says. His voice so soft the bartender had to lean close to even hear.