Deepwood Weald [m] red flax

it was not long before another followed. dutch? cen raised his head and looked behind himself.

a large white shape ranged forward, and became a man with colorful eyes. cen stared at him, not for the gaze but for the scars, an idle and knowing recognition blooming in him.

this was an ice point wolf, a seal hunter.

distaste and intrigue warred in cen. "hello, fish eater," he grinned with curled lip.