The first person he met was a child. A little girl, no older than seven, who was chasing the aforementioned chicken. The bird squawked and flapped past the stranger, nearly colliding with his legs. The girl skidded to a halt, almost bumping into him as well. She looked up to meet his eyes. She had wide brown eyes and a gap-toothed smile which quickly turned into an O of surprise. He realized he must look a fright: an unfamiliar man, dirty and gaunt, emerging from nowhere. He tried to smile gently, keeping his hands lowered to seem non-threatening. To his astonishment, the girl broke into a grin.
"Hi!" she chirped, utterly fearless. "I've never seen you before. Are you from beyond the forest?"
Her innocence was disarming. He nodded slowly. "Hello," he replied, voice husky. "Yes... I am from... far away." It wasn't a lie, he supposed. Every place was far compared to where he'd been.
She giggled at his slow, deliberate speech. "You talk funny." Then, tilting her head, "Are you a cultivator, mister? You look like one. You have long hair. And your eyes are... um... scary." She said the last word with the brutal honesty of a child, but she was still smiling.
Scary eyes? He blinked. Perhaps there was an intensity or color to them that marked him as unusual. He did not have a mirror to check. He hoped it wasn't too off-putting. He crouched a bit to be on her level and softened his expression. "I'm not going to hurt you. My name is..." He paused. What was his name? Panic fluttered. He truly had none. In that instant, he glanced at the chicken the girl had been chasing. It had a spot of white on its head. A ridiculous idea, but he recalled the farmers talking about Jade Hollow Sect and for some reason a word came to him: Jian. It meant sword, he remembered that much. But perhaps he shouldn't call himself Sword.
Another thought: Mu, for the moss that was his bed? No, too strange...The girl was staring. He needed to say something. "...My name is Long," he lied awkwardly, seizing on the word longing that echoed in his heart. It was not a real name, but it could pass as one. And it was fitting; he was a man formed of longing.
"Long? Like long as in length?" The girl scrunched her nose, clearly finding it odd but accepting. "Okay, Mister Long." She suddenly remembered her manners. "I'm A-Mei. My father is the innkeeper. Are you hungry? You look hungry." She pointed frankly at his midsection, which indeed had grown lean to the point of ribs showing.
He gave a small chuckle, the first laugh of his new life, surprised out of him by this child's candor. It felt good, natural. "I... Yes, I am hungry," he admitted. "And thirsty. I have some coin to pay." This was a bluff; he had nothing. But perhaps the farmers used barter. If needed, he could work or even reveal a small trick to earn a meal.
A-Mei beamed. "We have porridge! And sweet buns sometimes, if the baker is awake. Come on, I'll take you!" Without waiting, she grabbed his hand with her tiny one and started leading him down the dusty lane toward a larger building, the only two-story structure in the village, which he assumed was the inn.
He tensed at her touch initially, not used to contact, but her hand was warm and sticky from breakfast, and oddly comforting. He allowed himself to be pulled along, taking in the village as they went. A few villagers looked up curiously at the newcomer being dragged by the child, but seeing A-Mei's familiarity, they likely assumed he was no threat. Still, he caught the wary glance of a man with a hoe in a field, and an old woman pausing with a basket of laundry. He kept his posture relaxed and tried to mimic the easy gait of a traveler.
The inn was a simple wooden building with a sign that read "Moon Willow Inn." The irony of the name did not escape him... Moon, like the face he recalled, and Willow perhaps like the gentle resilience he needed. On the porch sat a stout man whittling a piece of wood. He looked up in surprise as A-Mei bounced up the steps with her new companion in tow.
"Papa! I found a traveler!" she announced proudly. "He's hungry and needs breakfast."
The innkeeper, presumably her father, raised an eyebrow at the sight of the ragged stranger. He put down his carving. "Did you, now?" he said slowly, eyeing the man up and down. "Good morning, friend. You gave us all a bit of a start, coming out of the forest like that." He stood, not exactly hostile but not immediately welcoming either. "These woods are dangerous at times. Not many travelers use the old east road."
The man who called himself Long gave a polite bow, recalling formalities from some deeply ingrained habit. "Good morning. Apologies for the surprise. I am indeed a traveler from far away. I lost my way in the forest last night and had to camp." He rasped out the words carefully, hoping the story would suffice. "Your daughter was kind enough to bring me here. I can pay for a meal, if you'd be so generous."