The old church had become a haven for Priest. If he was to be out in this wilderness he must at least have a place to pray, to kneel in solitude and ask the Lord for guidance. Now that he was able to fast again, he'd sometimes go without meals while in the midst of his meditations, giving his share to some Brother or Sister who seemed needful of it. It enhanced his image to be seen as self-sacrificing, and he knew others admired him for it.
He had seen the other man come into the sanctuary, and despite a thread of annoyance beneath his calm demeanor he said nothing. The church was for everyone, no matter how lost from God they had become, and who couldn't need counsel in these troubled times?
Priest rose from his seat in the pews, his clerical collar obvious against the dark material of his shirt. He'd been able to keep most of his clothes in good repair because some of his older followers were seamstresses, so his 'for church' clothes were kept in good condition. It had been a long time since he'd seen someone in such clear need for guidance.
"You are troubled, my son?" he questioned piously, his hands coming together in a prayerful gesture. "May I be of assistance?"