Paranoia. It was one of the main reasons that people hired other people, the other two being wanting to have something and wanting to kill someone. It was paranoia that brought Ozark to where he was tonight, standing outside of a farmhouse, watching sheep, bored as all hell. He'd rather be sleeping, but the owner of this farmhouse had promised to provide him with breakfast once he had confirmed that nobody was sneaking in at night, and Ozark hadn't eaten in days. So, here he was. Standing next to a farmhouse. In the middle of the night. Watching sheep. "Maybe I should consider another line of work."

Ozark jumps back and draws his weapon in response to Crimson appearing out of nowhere. “Who the hell are you?”

The mask's ears swiveled as the Jackal heard the fringe of a conversation in the direction of the farmhouse. He cursed under his breath. What were people doing out this late at night? He slowly slid off of the fence, landing inside the pasture. Without any real cover around, his only real choice was the sheep. The flock was none too pleased with this, and they began to bleat furiously at him.

"Shhhh! Calm down!" he hissed at them. The tone of his voice was forceful and the exact opposite of how he should have handled frightened animals, but it actually worked. They quieted and simply stared at him as he crept into the bulk of the flock and crouched down, the ears of his mask flattening to better conceal him. He gave one of them a pat on the head, a young ram who promptly tried to bite his fingers. Maybe he'd take this one.

Crimson walked up to the sheep and looked at Jackals direction and smiled and whispered to him.  "What eyes cannot see, I certainly can.  I will make sure no harm comes to you if you can tell me your name." 

"I am for tonight. He's just some guy." Ozark turns to face the Jackal, nodding his head towards Crimson as he speaks. He stares intently at the Jackal, looking him up and down. "Nice... mask. Anyway, who are you?"

The Jackal looked a little disgruntled at Crimson approaching him like that, but he let him take the sheep. "They call me the Jackal," he replied, tapping the side of his mask with a finger. "I was just passing through, same as you. That lamb was acting odd, so I decided to take a look at it. It seems to be alright, though. Young ones are always so difficult to evaluate." As he spoke, the jaws of the mask moved with his voice, creating a soft metallic rasping sound alongside his words.

The eyes of the Jackal's mask were pitch black, revealing no face underneath, but there was a clear feeling of intense eye contact from the man as he spoke. "Like I said, I was taking a look at that lamb there. I wasn't expecting people to be up and about this time of night, and I was worried it might look bad if a stranger was meddling with a flock, so... I hid. I'm now realizing that was not the best course of action, but I panicked."

His plan for an easy meal ruined, it would be a waste of time to stay here any longer and waste precious moonlight. There would be plenty of other flocks around here to choose from. "If that's all you need from me, then I'd best be on my way."

"...Of course." the Jackal gave Ozark a sort of mock salute and backed up to the fence before vaulting over it with a practiced ease. He started back down the path alongside the fence, walking casually, but he was absolutely fuming on the inside. He couldn't even get a lousy sheep anymore without someone breathing down his neck. 

The Jackal continued down the path, weighing his options. He could find some other pasture, far enough away in case the paranoid farmer had hired more muscle. They may not be as forgiving as the one he just encountered. On the other hand, he could go for some bigger game, and not have to do this whole song and dance as often...

What convenient timing for the Masked One to find himself at a fork in the path! One side curved back into the farmland, but the other led to some distant lights-- a village of some sort. He paused for only a moment before taking the path towards the village.