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Description
#1. Introduction

The young man walking down the road seemed to be a paradox.  He wasn't showing any outward signs of confidence, yet that was the impression most onlookers got of him.  His simple black shoes were caked in dust and dried mud, his jacket a similar color, though impeccably clean.  His hair was remarkably short, almost to the point of shaved.  His dark eyes looked into the distance, contemplating some unseen eternity ahead of him.  In his right hand he clutched an unadorned walking stick, but a rapier hanging conspicuously on his belt deterred any potential thieves.
The road he traveled on was made chiefly of dirt, though the recent thunderstorm had left much of it mud.  The man lifted his head and scrutinized the sunlight.  It would soon grow hot, he knew.  Unlike most people, his senses were much keener, almost supernatural.  He could predict next season's weather with nothing more than sunlight, smell thunderstorms a day away, see blizzards in the rings of the moon.  It was an unimpressive gift, but an incredibly helpful one for someone who did as much traveling as himself.
A shift in the wind caught his attention.  The faintest impression of flowers wafted to him on the eastbound breeze.  The reason he had been traveling for so long was near.  Without a moment's hesitation, he left the path and moved down the sloping meadow, following the path of the sinking sun.  With any luck, he would find he no longer needed to travel.  His search was almost over.

Description
#1. Introduction

The young man walking down the road seemed to be a paradox.  He wasn't showing any outward signs of confidence, yet that was the impression most onlookers got of him.  His simple black shoes were caked in dust and dried mud, his jacket a similar color, though impeccably clean.  His hair was remarkably short, almost to the point of shaved.  His dark eyes looked into the distance, contemplating some unseen eternity ahead of him.  In his right hand he clutched an unadorned walking stick, but a rapier hanging conspicuously on his belt deterred any potential thieves.
The road he traveled on was made chiefly of dirt, though the recent thunderstorm had left much of it mud.  The man lifted his head and scrutinized the sunlight.  It would soon grow hot, he knew.  Unlike most people, his senses were much keener, almost supernatural.  He could predict next season's weather with nothing more than sunlight, smell thunderstorms a day away, see blizzards in the rings of the moon.  It was an unimpressive gift, but an incredibly helpful one for someone who did as much traveling as himself.
A shift in the wind caught his attention.  The faintest impression of flowers wafted to him on the eastbound breeze.  The reason he had been traveling for so long was near.  Without a moment's hesitation, he left the path and moved down the sloping meadow, following the path of the sinking sun.  With any luck, he would find he no longer needed to travel.  His search was almost over.