It had been a long time since he'd last ventured near signs of civilization. For the longest time civilization had meant demons which were smarter than the ones he usually faced, but now most of the demons were gone. So when he saw the smoke rising near him he didn't run away from it like he usually did, but cautiously approached the fire.
He'd become stealthy over the years, so he wasn't noticed until he was already within the clearing and the fire's circle of light. The fire maker looked up, a friendly expression on his face, and said something that sounded like a greeting in a language that Xander didn't speak.
In the beginning, he'd talked to himself about anything and everything, a constant running commentary on his life and thoughts. He'd always been a people person, and since there hadn't been any people besides himself he'd had to keep himself company. But when the demons had come he'd soon realized that it was a bad idea to make more noise than he had to. Talking that filled his ears kept him from hearing approaching demons. It hadn't taken him more than a dozen deaths for that lesson to be driven home. He hadn't spoken since, and that had been long ago.
The demons were weakened now, the worst of them gone completely, so it was safe to speak. Xander introduced himself with lips no longer used to speaking, which wrapped uncomfortably around his name. "Xander," he said, and the sound of his voice startled him because he hadn't heard it in so many years that he'd all but forgotten its sound.
[revised 1/18/2010]
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