@lailarenaud
Kit was pretty sure it was obvious to everyone that he was living in the woods; with the state of how he looked, he didn’t exactly have a mirror out there so dirt streaked his face and clothes. Coming into town to pick up some food, or maybe speak to some locals, try and find out where the best places to rent were or to try and pick up a job. With his backpack slung over one shoulder, he headed down the street. Keeping his head down, his heart pace quickened. There was the anxiety that made his throat dry and tongue numb. The last time he tried speaking to people to get some help, none of them spoke English, so he had picked up a small book with English to Greek common phrases to try and help him. He had begun to get cold feet, too stressed to go up to a random stranger and ask for help.
That was, until he caught a scent, familiar. He’d grown used to the smell of werewolf considering he was covered in it. So when he found it he turned his heel and started heading towards where it was coming from. Just around the corner stood a tall, blonde, proud looking woman. Nearly intimidated off again, he swallowed whatever anxiety ridden fear was still bundled up in his throat and approached. “Uh -- excuse me.” he introduced himself, pulling out the little book and speaking in broken Greek and horrible accent. “help me, can you?”