To the outward eye, he probably did not look like himself. His robe pulled down over his face, only his nose and mouth were visible beneath it. The brown robe looked tattered and worn, his clothing foreign to him beneath it. It wasn't his normal black shift, that was to be sure. He wasn't sure how he'd arrived here or who dressed him.

"Who are you," he asked softly as he approached her. "Where is this place?" He hoped that he would just appear to be a lost, weary traveler. One who needed information and then he would get gone.