Far more refreshed than he had been when he'd left, Umashi found that a youthful vigor had returned to him though his face might mostly be familiar to those that had once known him. Characteristically mostly unchanging, the lack of grey or overly obvious wrinkle might had thrown off a somewhat noting eye, after all, the time that had passed was enough for a generation to come and go but as the number of people on the road began to multiple exponentially, Umashi was able to keep to himself save for the interested family dog or inquisitive child that dared to adventure close to him. Striking up a mostly mundane conversation with one farmer, Umashi chatted about the weather, to another he spoke about the latest tea blends coming from the south, and to yet another, he merely spoke about the rigors of raising a child in a quickly industrializing world. Before he knew it, the gates were welcoming him and so he made his way to the checkpoint. So many people, so many familiar stories and so many lives just waiting to be lived to their fullest extent. Though he walked with them as a casual observer, he appreciated every one for what it was, special.
