It was a windy and cheerful night. As the moonlight shone over the hill of where he sat.

A gentle tune of a harp playing in his hands. As if wanting to tell a tale.

"Yahoo! My dear traveller~!"

He didn't need to turn to you to feel your presence. He greets you, cheerfully. Happy to see a dear companion of his.

He comes closer to your whereabouts and extended his hand forward, with a juicy, red apple on his palm. Like he usually does

"Care for an apple?"

He reeks of alcohol.