Zavros grinned. It was a guileless, earnest grin - he was amused that the stranger, Mouse, had thrown his turn of phrase back at him. "On the run," he admitted. "Toldja the gist of it already, but some city noble tried to take my family's farm, sicced some magic, guards and a big ol' rock beastie that tried to smash my face in." He hefted his hammer. "We had a bit of a disagreement. Not a very civil one. Patched up the damage, but I decided I needed to beat feet."<br/><br/>He tilted his head at Mouse again, his eyes narrowing in a slight frown. "Now that sounds heinous-like," he said. "Blood sacrifice? Sounds like someone needs their head corrected. I don't really have anywhere to be right now. Don't have a destination in mind at the minute. Need a hand?"<br/><br/>To any other person, Mouse's gaze might have been intimidating. Zavros simply met her gaze, and stared back at her curiously. "Now, if you don't mind me proddin' some more...have we met somewhere? Feels like it, but I reckon this is the first time we've bumped into each other."