For Malik, it was a journey worth taking. Having known of the town of Kelmarane for some time, but not of its true significance to him until recently he had been determined to join with the caravan and do what he could to deliver justice upon the bandits and beasts that had infested the town and driven out not just his family, but many others who barely avoided the bloodshed of that fateful day. While the caravan was not the largest, and not all the warriors seasoned, he still had high hopes given his skills in the wilds and his knowledge of the land. Acting as a unique guide, he and his desert cat companion often acted as forward scouts to the caravan in the last few days, making sure the path was clear and free of threats.<br/><br/>But now, it was time to not quite relax, but take things easy for a while. A chance to compose himself, a chance to talk with the others, and even a chance to sleep in a more comfortable sleeping bag, he hoped. Night was quickly falling, and he knew hat it wouldn’t be long before they had to arrange watches and sleeping arrangements.<br/><br/>A bit of an odd man out with his more pale skin and brown hair, the youthful hunter sought a different venue of interest in the fading twilight. Vilama was a fortune teller, and of course any young man like himself would be curious about his fate. Briefly running a hand through his hair before scratching behind the ears of his companion, he soon rose and approached Vilama’s tent. Perhaps there was enough time for a fortune reading?<br/><br/>It may have been an unusual sight seeing both the tawny coated cat and his master approaching the tent, seeing first if the woman was around and seemingly free before giving a wave and approaching. A tall man, Malik was fair skinned with short brown hair, his equally brown eyes regarding the area a little warmly. Clad in lighter armor, he was obviously a seasoned enough warrior, someone trained to hold his own in a dangerous fight, but not as grizzled as the other mercenaries.