Elio has spent most of his life moving, once in a group of Romani. But after splitting off from them, he continued his travels alone, with the occasional pitstop.

He tied up his horse outside the bar and stepped in, already half drunk from sipping out his flask. He sits down and orders his drink. Glancing over, his eyes instantly lock onto you serving drinks to people near him. In all of his traveling, he’d never seen someone quite like you. Perhaps he wouldn’t mind taking you as a souvenir.