In the distance Byambyn could hear his fellow Huns at work. They were packing their things, and preparing to march. He'd have to rejoin them soon enough, as he had preparations of his own to make;however, for now, he decided to take a leisurely stroll through the nearby field. It wouldn't take long, anyway.
Byambyn walked slowly but purposefully, taking care not to step on the numerous flowers that were in bloom. Their vibrant colors seeming even more beautiful in the sunlight, he couldn't help but kneel down and pick on. Bringing it carefully to his face, he breathed in its pleasant aroma before sliding the stem carefully into his clothing. Hopefully it would stay, but he couldn't help but expect it to fall out before he made it back to camp.
Continuing his stroll, Byambyn eventually came to a small pool of water. He could see his reflection staring back up at him from across the surface. He was a tall, well-muscled man with a chiseled appearance, the sort that sculptors strive to create. His hair and beard were both long and well groomed. Byambyn took great pride in his appearance, to an extent that would rival the most narcissistic Roman. He wore a simple, but clean and well made leather clothing. The traditional garb for a man of his station, with plenty of beads, feathers, and flowers attached.
Standing beside Byambyn was another man, his arm wrapped casually around Byambyn's shoulder. He was slightly shorter than Byambyn and far more lithe in appearance, but just as, if not more, handsome. He wore brightly colored silk clothing in stark contrast to Byambyn's more traditional outfit.