[iron and saltwater, warmth and fresh clothing, fresh cuts of flesh simmering, then it is all tall, looming trees and dirt sticking to skin. he swallows his disorientation, disgusted not with his surroundings, but at whatever or whoever had decided to bring him here unclothed. he wastes no time in slipping through the forest and town to find the boarding house. light on his feet, ears and eyes peeled, barely registering the crisp air against his skin -- if he feels it, at all. he finds it disrespectful, to leave so many stripped and confused with little explanation. there's nothing to be done about it in the moment, so he aligns himself with a set of goals for himself.

he dresses himself first, as well as he can. the selection isn't up to his standards but he makes do. shoes, pants, button-up long sleeve shirt and a sweater. he's new; fresh, yet he exudes an assertive, confident air. there is no panic in his eyes -- there is little to be found on his inscrutable expression. he catches whiffs of the cooked pheasant, of old wood and fear.

he doesn't like the idea -- in fact hates the idea -- of having to share a room with someone, but right now is about survival. change will come later. if any doors are left ajar, he'll press on them gently (expertly) to open and inspect the room.

or, perhaps he's already inside of a bedroom, and someone is finding him. maybe one bed is already taken, maybe he's in luck and both beds are empty. either way, he'll look in their direction with a tight-lipped smile that doesn't reach his eyes.]

Hello. I hope you don't mind, I wanted to find a place to rest before dinner came to an end.

[he says it so naturally, even looks like this bedroom is where he belongs as he picks up the bedsheets to feel their fabric. nothing about him says uncomfortable.]

[he doesn't so much as feel obligated to go to the festival as he does want to, simply to know the space he's been thrust into. too often has he paused within earshot of people chatting to listen for information. he doesn't like feeling like this, like he knows nothing. the festivities are somewhat familiar -- almost pagan in nature. people will notice he does not bow his head during the prayer; the act would be one of submission, and Hannibal does not easily submit.

the feast does not go unappreciated. a banquet, fruits and vegetables all bright colors of summer arranged in such a way that it reminds him of Europe and its paintings, the lush and unforgiving temptation that draws everyone in. so he partakes. not near the center of the table, but closer to the edge; easier to step away if need be. the food itself is good enough, but there is a blossoming warmth in his gut that he recognizes, heat rising up to his ears.

aphrodisiacs. yet he couldn't taste them, couldn't pick them apart from the rest of the meal. he'd noticed something, a different layer of flavor that he couldn't place. all scents blended together from the summer's day, food and drink. he hadn't paid attention to the smell of pure, overwhelming heat that pours off of people like a sillage.

it's then that he's assigned the role: follower. cutlery hovers, hands above the table, eyes locked on the commander.]

Choose your next words carefully.

[the tone could be interpreted as playful, even his eyes have a practiced glint; he's seen the games around him, yet there's something about him that suggests otherwise.]

[he's seen it happen around him, tricksters with sly smiles clinking metal around limbs to unsuspecting victims. he's careful to avoid it from happening to him, yet he feels he's delaying the inevitable.

days go by, soon a week. it feels the second he steps out of the boarding house that he's assaulted by cool metal against skin, tight around his left wrist. he's not particularly angered by it, nor is he dismayed by the rules.

it's an interesting little game. summertide has hedonism written all over it. he clicks his tongue, peering at whomever has been unlucky enough to be tied to him.]

Well, well. Shall we do this the easy way, or the hard way?

( or write your own adventure, literally so ota. )