It's absolutely fucking pouring down and Fjord has his soaked cloak draped over his armour and winter coat where he stands by the window of the bakery shop watching the rain thunder against the pavement, bulkier than usual which says something for the 6'3" halforc. When the door opens and a dripping tiefling makes his way in, his eyes widen in surprise (that's one more than he knew the island had) and he clears his throat.

"Have you been wandering around out there all this time?"

The fellow certainly looks like it.