Izumo didn't often bother random travellers, but the bench was the only place to sit that wasn't on the ground, and after three days of hard camping in the forest to escape pursuit from his latest mission, he was so done with sitting on the ground. Gods, the things he did for his village. With a sigh, Izumo sank onto the other end on the bench. Dropping his heavy pack by his feet, he rolled his bruised shoulder and offered the...lady traveller a little grin. See, friendly, please to not be stabbing him.

"Good afternoon."

He was dressed in simple clothes, a merchant's class, shabby but respectable. He was fairly smudged with dirt and fished a twig out of his sleeve, which probably put a really big dent in that respectibility. Ah, hell with it, he was just having a bad week.