Hauk was<span style="font-style: italic">not</span>used to touching.  He twitched awkwardly and almost reached for his sword, but decided against it.  It was only a man, an ordinary, non-assuming gentleman asking for a drink.<br/><br/>“Er, no, sorry, I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with the area...” he returned.  He seemed non-committed to the act of talking, because he was engaging in observing this bloke in the magical spectrum.  Thin, almost invisible knots, ties all seeming to stem from the outer regions of his form.  Hauk thought it looked off- he was definitely capable of magic, but usually this was represented in surging and intricate knots along their person, all bound to their channel…<br/><br/>… but then it suddenly clicked.  The knots<span style="font-style: italic">were</span>bound to his channel: his shadow.  There was only one source for that brand of magic.  Hauk evaporated the spectrum and focused on his movements.<br/><br/>“Maero, huh?” he asked the stranger cautiously.  He still refrained from drawing his sword.  He knew he couldn't so quickly pass judgment on his character based on his skill alone.  It didn't at all mean he would easily trust him, however.  Hauk caught the fellow glancing away, toward the fringe of the market where he'd left Anya.<br/><br/>“Alright, what are you up to, mate?  Something tells me you aren't as thirsty as you'd prefer me to believe.”