Weak, so weak.
Rain pours down but the man in the ripped white shirt doesn't move. He doesn't know how to, he hasn't got used to his surrounds yet and he's still injured from the dreadfull fall.
He's waiting. Waiting for the right person to come. He knows that man is coming and he shall wait untill then. After all, he's been watching this town for many moons, and knows that the right person will be along soon.
The rain is making his clothes cling to him like an uncomfortable second skin but he just lowers his head, leaning against a tree, letting the rain cool down his back where it still feels like it's burning.
Apart from that he doesn't move, not even when he heard footsteps splashing closer and stopping by his weak form.
He doesn't move but he knows this is the right man he's been waiting for. He can sense it, feel it with ever fiber of his being, but what the man chooses to do now will effect the whole course of the future.
"Hello there. I am Lord Drew Kronkman-Syth, would you care for my assitance my dear fellow?" The man asks, roaring over the loud storm, walks closer to the slumped over man with the cunning plan.
The young man lifts his head, a small but evil smile on his pale, dripping face. This is the man he's been waiting for. This is the man he needs. And now he has chosen a very foturtunate path for the future, well, for the ripped shirt man anyway.
Everything now will work like cloak-work and he knows that. He knows that, given time, he will work his way back up. He will the man he once was. He will earn his wings.