Tobias looked up when he heard the stranger. The accent sounded entirely unfamiliar to him, and his looks seemed to suggest he had traveled far indeed, and on foot by the looks of it. There was a good deal of mud on his clothes, and yet, judging by what he was wearing, he wasn't a complete pauper either.

"No sir," he said, trying to soften his thick Yorkshire accent, in case the stranger did not understand. "But if ye're headed for Castleton, we can drop ye off there if ye need a ride."

He sat there on a cart with all the confidence of a man who was independent and owned what he worked with. His clothes were plain, but in a good state. He wore an auburn beard and mustache - showing that he did not care much for the latest fashion - and a bowler hat - showing that he was not altogether outside of society either. The blue dress of his wife, next to him, was also in a good state, and more adapted to fashion (although a huge checked shawl wrapped around it ruined the effect, as did the shawl that covered her red hair), but she did not carry herself with the same confidence. She was very young. Her round face was pale, gaunt, almost, and as she looked at the stranger, she seemed anxious at the mere sight of him.