"Is that hair real?" "It can't be!" The whispers are coming from between the houses, where two of the more gossippy women are peeking out in Mathea's direction, at a stranger approaching on the road. He is tall, with long, thick black hair tied back in some kind of braid, and neither his hair nor his dark skin show any dappling. The effect is astonishing, and Mathea tries not to stare. The two women by the houses - three now - show no such restraint. "Do you think he'd mind if I touched it?" one of them says, then giggles. "Hey, ah..." Mathea calls out on impulse. The stranger turns. "Have you come to visit the seminary?" "I have." His voice is precise but oddly hesitant. "You are a sage?" Then, when he looks confused, "a scholar?" "Yes." "Come this way, Magister." Mathea beckons him away from the approaching women, much to their annoyance.