"Khhaaaaahhh, pfui", coughed and wheezed Markus, and sat down for a while. The group seems to have noticed him, the women turning around and looking intently, and the beast missing, probably stalking him from the grass up ahead. "Better not cause trouble", he thought, and pulled out a few tobacco leaves from one of his many tiny belt satchels, putting them in his mouth and chewing for a while, letting the sweet, delicious aroma of nicotine calm him down. Now that he was being able to think, he decided it was best to proceed slowly, with hands behind on the neck, and hope for the best. After a gulp of white wine, for which he unwisely sacrificed coppers his master intended for food, he got up and strolled onward.