There were now three travellers crossing the barren plains.
One of them was a young man in tattered hunting gear. He had a black ironwood lance on his back, from the tip of which hung two coarse-furred mice.
Leylin and Bodach were following him at the side. After that ‘friendly and enthusiastic’ interaction, they’d successfully gotten the youth to bring them to his tribe. They had found out his name as well. He was called Cabadole, and was a descendant of a large tribe nearby.
While he had yet to reach adulthood, he’d already had to take on some responsibilities. Having obtained his prey the youth was obviously elated, and he even began humming a strange tune. While Leylin suspected that these two mice could only provide for a few meals, but based on what the young man had said, this was already plentiful.
“The animals in the wilderness are extremely sly. Even the best hunters in the village can’t be confident that they will get...