A twitch of a smile in the corner of his mouth, as Reyes shifts to take in the new arrival. “Perhaps a little. I should’ve started pressing my nose to the windows, made it even more dreadfully obvious.”

There’s a nonchalance to his movements, but underneath it a subtle wariness, too — like a cat sauntering through a room, pretending it’s absolutely unbothered, and yet remaining spine rigid and watchful. So, he looks over the other man: around his age or a little younger, handsome, and dressed more like a proper villager than Reyes’ fresh scrubs, which mark him as a new arrival.

“The inn’s starting to look a little full, so I decided to take a look at the houses. ” He doesn’t technically owe anyone an explanation, but on the off-chance that this man does live in one of the neighbouring buildings, Reyes prefers to tread lightly. He’s been greeted with everything from a cup of tea to brandished weapons here.