Perhaps it was the small population, all the breathing room he was able to have. Or maybe he was simply overexposed to man's creations, and was subconsciously longing for what he once knew, grasping for it in the greenery of the town. Regardless of what the answer could have been, Adriano was thankful for the nostalgia, fully taking advantage of the feeling. Knowing his angry traveling partner, Idran, would likely follow him, the brunette chose to escape into the dead of night.
There was little to no one out at such a late hour. However, such a thing was expected, so Adriano took the silence in stride. He observed and admired his surroundings before arriving at the river. A chill of course was present, one that traversed the air and swirled about. Goosebumps were quick to appear on his skin, and his cheeks began to slowly take on a red hue. Despite the cold, Adriano persevered.
The young man had situated himself next to the river, legs crossed, before reaching into his side bag. Out of it came a small wooden flute, seemingly handcrafted. At the sight of his beloved instrument, the corners of his lips curved upwards, and he almost immediately started playing out of habit. Thankfully, he quickly stopped himself and took a quick glance around. Not a soul nearby. Perfect.
Suddenly, his eyes were closed, and the cold breeze kissing his face felt negligible, perhaps downright nonexistent. The flute was brought to his lips, his fingers already in position... and he began to play. It was a slow and soft melody, calming in nature and profound. He became lost in what he was playing, and his heartbeat slowed, as did his breathing. He felt...
At peace.