Zaron was looking about as he walked into the town he had been trying to reach. He was used to the lands of his people where magic was something you used if you had it, usually for things like coating yourself in an element or healing or begin stronger than you are. Here, however, there was not magic. No people out on the streets throwing fireballs in the air to practice for combat. No magic. It finally came to Zaron. No magic.
As he continued walking, Zaron did not see Rajan, stopping only slightly when he felt something hit him. Or more correctly, him hitting something. The dragonborn looked down at Rajan, who to him at this point, seemed to be a strange man with a strange spot of black skin.
"I am sorry for not seeing you... human." Zaron spoke, hissing out the word 'human.' He continued with "You should have been looking where you were going. I have little patience for your kind."