<table width="100%"><tr><td style="vertical-align: top; width:50%; padding-right:10px;"><span style="color: #E6E9FD"><span style="font-family: Nyala;"><span style="font-size: 120%; line-height: 116%;">Laughter filled the air as a brightly painted wagon pulled along the crooked road, a large donkey promptly moving forward. It clopped along and the wagon rocked and the sounds of whistles and fiddles filled a near half mile radius. Pots and pans that hung on latches on the outside clashed and clanked, creating more ruckus as the strangers of the nearing town came rolling in. Song from various voices erupted from the caravan, singing together like an inharmonious choir that sounded even worse when they started rounds. A heavy belied man sat on the front, casually guiding the donkey as it pulled, only tugging the reins when needed to turn or to halt. With a large "hoo ra", the current song had ended, and the man in the front signaled a loud call mixed with a laugh. The entire cabin in unison groaned loudly, but then laughed their irritation away.<br/><br/>Each member of the group scrambled across the large caravan, reaching over and past each other's heads for various bottles, stick and pans, and a few flutes and other instruments. The caravan's activity made it tilt slightly, throwing a young man onto another's laugh, both in the pair laughing and shoving each other away. His hand grasps two plates with leather straps attached to the back, and after sliding both his hands into these straps, he returned to his seat which was simply an open spot on the floor. The wagon was silent. <br/><br/>Everyone looked at the young man who merely smiled at each of them, slowly lifting his plates in the air. A few moments passed, and with the anguishing anticipation, he finally clapped his plates against the boards, starting off the song with a rhythm that made everyone sway. Metal pans joined in with a similar beat, the large man in the front bringing his already baritone voice down to add to the song. Whistles soon sang and various jug blowers added their low hum into the tone, and then finally, those who had lips to  <a class="postlink" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y-zhZEzzVa0sang">sing, sang</a>. <br/><br/>" <a class="postlink" href="https://translate.google.com/#en/ro/Hey%20departing%20Traveler%2C%20where%20are%20you%20heading%3F%0A%0AYour%20journey%20is%20bound%20to%20failure%E2%80%A6%0AHow%20many%20travelers%20before%20you%E2%80%A6%0AHave%20sought%20the%20path%20with%20similar%20results%3F%0A%0AHow%20many%20cities%20and%20deserts%20have%20I%20roamed%3F%0AHow%20much%20time%20have%20I%20wasted%0ATouring%20from%20one%20place%20to%20another%3F%0A%0AOh%20lost%20one%2C%20no%20matter%20how%20much%20you%20run%20away%0AYour%20destiny%20will%20end%20in%20exhaustion%E2%80%A6%0ATime%20has%20passed%20you%20by%E2%80%A6%0AAnd%20you%20have%20yet%20to%20notice%20it.">Hei ne îndepărta Traveler, unde te rubrica?</a><br/><br/>Călătoria dumneavoastră este obligat la eșec ...<br/>Câți calatori înainte de tine ...<br/>Au încercat calea cu rezultate similare?<br/><br/>The group made it to a nearby Inn. The donkey came to a halt and the caravan jolted to a stop. The group continued to sing, however, even as the front man paused to state their arrival and the large group of fifteen piled out of the yellow wagon. <br/><br/></span></span></span></td><td style="vertical-align: top; width:50%; padding-left:10px;"><span style="color: #E6E9FD"><span style="font-family: Nyala;"><span style="font-size: 120%; line-height: 116%;">"Câte orașe și deserturi am eu cutreierau?<br/>Cât timp am eu irosit<br/>Touring de la un loc la altul?<br/><br/>Oh pierdut unul, indiferent de cât de mult vă fugi<br/>Destinul tău se va încheia în epuizare ...<br/>Timpul a trecut prin tine ...<br/>Și aveți inca sa-l observe." <br/><br/>The group stopped outside of the Inn, laughing rambunctiously. However, only one went inside, pushing the doors open with his gloved hands. The walls and doors muffled the group outside, but it brought a placid smile to his face that one could still hear their joy even from within walls. Rolling his dark eyes, the booted male made his way across the floor, looking for whoever was in charge of food and drink. No one seemed to look the part at first, but a girl went up to a fair young lady and supposedly started to talk to someone who was in charge of something or another. That was close enough for him. <br/><br/>Walking over with his wrist bands jangling above his hands and his boots thumping, the young man stepped beside the young woman. Not the really young one. She obviously wasn't in charge and wouldn't really help him much at all. However, he kept his mouth shut, seeing as both of them were busy. The younger girl was asking about some sort of Dragon school? He didn't even know that existed. He had thoroughly believe dragons were out there somewhere, growing up with Roma telling stories and tall tales and all. But there was a school? <br/><br/>He eyed the application paper with narrow eyes, trying to get a glimpse of what the details of this "School" is. However, there wasn't much on it at all. That certainly didn't help. The girl slowly finished her form. In response, he ran his hands through his chin length hair. He glanced at the woman who had given the girl the sheet. "Pardon my mischief, but what's the form for?" His <a class="postlink" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DHD9T4efePA">accent</a> present.</span></span></span></td></tr></table>