"Well. It seems I do not need to wait for too long."
As the young man turned his gaze in the direction from which the axe had been thrown, he saw the newcomer emerging from the shadows of the trees.
A rough-looking man with beaded hair, his face weathered from countless battles, stepped forward with heavy, confident strides. His muscular arms were inked with intricate tattoos, and his eyes gleamed with a fierce, animalistic intensity.
PITU!
He spat onto the ground, the sound sharp in the otherwise silent clearing.
The man's lips curled into a sneer as he locked eyes with the young swordsman. "You lookin' for me, boy?" he growled, his voice thick with an accent that hinted at northern roots.
The young man smiled, tilting his head slightly, intrigued. "You are Loren, then?" His voice was calm, carrying none of the arrogance or bravado that the other man exuded.