Dully, the stone he kept so close to himself, in a plain  cloth pouch, kept on a chain around his neck, pounded at the back of his head. Something beyond that constant, quiet need to find someone--not something-- and just...cut them open, and paint a canvas with their blood and bile and entrails. Thoughts and ideas that repulsed him, even if the visions often included the very people that had made his childhood into a nightmare.<br/><br/>That wasn't it. It was something else. Something akin to a red flag of warning flaring up in his mind. Something...was coming? Perhaps.  It was night time now, and though chilly, the chill he felt was not caused by the weather. The undead were close to the dead, and so while the Stone did not directly interact with vampires on any level, their was still some tenuous connection. The fact that she was an Elder, had probably taken many lives, and had far, far exceeded her own natural life span...the fact that she<em>should,</em>by all rights, be did, but wasn't... it all put her close enough to death that the stone knew, even if it wasn't able to effectively communicate to its wielder. And above and beyond all that, she bore another Stone!<br/><br/>Left with that strange sensation, he found himself nearing the inn where he planned to stay for the night. He would leave his pony outside, whispering to it, telling it to be still, that he'd be in there for only a moment...and then he went inside. He spent a few moments inquiring with the owner about getting a room, was mildly surprised to hear their was one open still, and mentioned his pony needing to be stabled for the night. A price is reached, and paid for, and the man came back out, and led his pony around to the stable.<br/><br/>He didn't trust anyone else to lead his pony into the stable, especially since all his traveling gear was still in packs on it. He led the pony into the stable, got it set up in a stall, and took a moment to personally feed the beast himself. He'd be here for a time, enjoying the quiet of the night.