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Message: <blockquote data-quote="arkansasdave" data-source="post: 2515588" data-attributes="member: 34225">Béar at the WickBéar will sit at the tables that have been moved together. He does not enguage anybody, but leaves himself open for others to talk to him. He is perfectly content keeping his mouth shut and eyes and ears open. Listening to hear what everybody has to say.  Occasionally, Béar will glance over at the lone, masked man-- Odd that someone would continue to cover their face when they are dry and safe from the elements.This thought jolts Béar's memory of one of his many battles he led his troops into long ago.  The day he came closest to loosing his life.  With an upward slash that seemingly came from nowhere, the tip of the sword caught his face just left of his chin, traced the left corner of his mouth to just inside the hairline above his left eye.  The scar is about a half inch wide at any given spot and the surrounding tissue two inches on either side has healed into a mess of bumps, cracks, and folds.  The left side of his mouth has drawn down for a premanent frown.His now empty eye socket was currently filled with a smoothed, pollished, oak sphere.  I wonder who will be first to ask about my face.</blockquote>