[Leonard]

"My son is what you might call one feather short of a bird. Usually his mother watches him, but she's sick and who'd think you'd need a minder for a grown man? Well, the long and short of it is: He's gone and joined some troupe or other touring Elysia, and his mother's worried sick. If you're down that way and you happen to see him, could you persuade him to come home, please," A man named Landon Todd finished yet another little rant about his good for nothing son by asking for help. People who couldn't hold their liqueur were so honest. Thankfully, the worst secret this man had was that he missed his son. Not exactly the kind of secret you hang for, though most fathers treated it like it was. It wasn't the secret that Leonard (or 'Knuckles Tsuaf', as he was going by at the moment) was used to hearing, or particularly after, but he couldn't help but pay attention to it.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. If I see him, I'll drag him back here by the ear," the drunkard Mr. Todd was crying over responded half heartedly. He had no intention of following through on what he said. He, just like most of the other patrons in the 'Soft Spoken' pub, was just trying to write off the old man as a sad drunk. He just told him what he thought he wanted to hear, so he'd shut up and leave him to his mug of ale.

Knuckles couldn't help but relate the story he had overheard to his own. He had left his parents and his comfortable life for no reason much more than wanderlust. He wondered if his parents missed him like that, too.

He stood up from his table and walked over to the bar, were Todd was sitting. He was wearing a cheap and plain Therian leather outfit. His clothes were wrinkled and messy. His hair was messy and unkempt as well. Unlike Leonard and The Lost, his hair wasn't pulled back into a pony tail and his long bangs fell over the top of his face, hiding his eyes. When he sat at the bar he slouched down and leaned against the bar as if he would have fallen over if he hadn't. All the way he had dragged his wings behind him. Overall, he looked like some kind of punk thug, and that's just the way he wanted to appear.

He had sat down next to Mr. Todd and then as if it were the natural thing to do, he turned to him and asked, "So, this tour group... Did they have a name? Do you know where they were lasted headed or last seen?"

"Ah, don't get him started again," the drunk on the other side of Landon called out to protest.

"Shuddap!" Knuckles poked his head up to shout past the sorrow stricken father, to which the drunk just threw up a hand in disgust.

"...Mr. Todd?" Knuckles followed up in a much more gentle tone.