Magnus arrived at Capitol Park early one spring morning, just after dawn. It suited his purpose well enough as the dawn was early enough to beat most people out the door, and the morning were still chilly enough for him to call them pleasant and most sane people to try to avoid being outside. While it would be warmer -- much warmer -- later and the day promised to be beautiful, these two things still conspired to keep the population down to a reasonable amount.
Magnus' eyes crinkle at the corner as he muses and remembers a similar morning over a year ago. He had more and more frequently been realizing just how long it had been since he had crawled out of his hermitage and into the Freehold, and each time he found himself less surprised and more contented.
This morning, much like the previous morning, he has with him a little red wagon filled with paper bags sporting grease stains. He had once again prepared lunch for anyone who showed up to join him. Of course, last time no one had gotten to eat the lunch as it had been turned into a rather ineffective flaming cart of distraction, but no plan is perfect.
He had had to make a new wagon as consequence of that trip, and he had endeavored to make it a bit more grown-up and hedge-ready. The wagon this time is still small and light, and still painted red, but the axle attachments are double re-enforced and instead of the little read wheels that adorn children's wagons this one has four thick, rubber tires cannibalized from defunct wheelbarrows.
In addition he was wearing his hiking boots over woolen socks, denim jeans from working the fields, and a flannel shirt. He had a canteen on a strap over his shoulder and three more in the wagon, and of course his knife tucked securely away in his pocket. So, Magnus waited to see if anyone would answer the invitation this time, and to enjoy the morning.
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