He didn't like taking the disguising dyes off and putting them back on again with any regularity. His skin tone he could get away with leaving, usually - there were enough different colors in the Hollowed Grounds that his honey-brown wasn't unusual - but there was no denying that his hair was distinctive. That was usually a good thing - it made him easy to recognize by those sent to find the Provost - but when he was persona non grata with the local bully and her over-eager gang of troublemakers it also made him an easier target.
Funny thing about having such a distinctive trait though - people stopped seeing the face and focused on the hair. Which meant that once the hair changed... well, he had to do a lot less work on the rest of himself to disappear into the crowd. A broad-brimmed hat, an eyepatch, a slouch to disguise his height, and he was a new man. Not that he didn't take the extra steps anyway, using walnut husks to darken his skin and clever cosmetic use to add age lines to his face; he was a bard, after all, and took pride in his craft.
He had, so far at least, been able to keep his preparations discrete and out of the way, deep in the Woodlands. The last thing he had expected was a 'visitor' in this remote, tree-shaded spring of the Outskirts, and his head whipped up, startled, at the sound of his name as his hand dropped to a knife at his hip. At least the voice and figure it belonged to were familiar, and he relaxed immediately, even as Isuma bounded out from behind him, reeping! a happy greeting to girl and gourd both. Her friend Fangorn was foremost in her attentions as she danced around him, her own pale fur a rusty red that blended with the Leafchange colors around them.
Jigano went back to rinsing the muck from his hair, the husks leaving it a darkish-grey in their wake as he offered Melita a weary but welcoming smile. "For the moment," he confirmed with a slight chuckle. "Though not, perhaps, much longer. Are you hunting today?" That was the first reason he could think of for someone being this far out in the Woods. Hunting or gathering herbs or berries for food or medicines. But Melita seemed a fierce creature, far more predator than prey, to his vulpine senses.
Funny thing about having such a distinctive trait though - people stopped seeing the face and focused on the hair. Which meant that once the hair changed... well, he had to do a lot less work on the rest of himself to disappear into the crowd. A broad-brimmed hat, an eyepatch, a slouch to disguise his height, and he was a new man. Not that he didn't take the extra steps anyway, using walnut husks to darken his skin and clever cosmetic use to add age lines to his face; he was a bard, after all, and took pride in his craft.
He had, so far at least, been able to keep his preparations discrete and out of the way, deep in the Woodlands. The last thing he had expected was a 'visitor' in this remote, tree-shaded spring of the Outskirts, and his head whipped up, startled, at the sound of his name as his hand dropped to a knife at his hip. At least the voice and figure it belonged to were familiar, and he relaxed immediately, even as Isuma bounded out from behind him, reeping! a happy greeting to girl and gourd both. Her friend Fangorn was foremost in her attentions as she danced around him, her own pale fur a rusty red that blended with the Leafchange colors around them.
Jigano went back to rinsing the muck from his hair, the husks leaving it a darkish-grey in their wake as he offered Melita a weary but welcoming smile. "For the moment," he confirmed with a slight chuckle. "Though not, perhaps, much longer. Are you hunting today?" That was the first reason he could think of for someone being this far out in the Woods. Hunting or gathering herbs or berries for food or medicines. But Melita seemed a fierce creature, far more predator than prey, to his vulpine senses.
