Lenhard

With his mind on other matters, the slight academic barely notices the goings on. In his arms he has three rather large tomes with which he had been struggling to get home before his arms gave out entirely. He makes it out into the lamplight before spotting the hood standing guard. With a small start, he drops his one of his books, flustered and embarassed.

'Oh, I - that is - beg your pardon.'

Kneeling down, he begins trying to gather his papers, trying not to get the bottom of his fine cloak dirty.