Rising Sun Valley a lion doesn't concern himself with the opinion of a sheep

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indentFor months the days had gone quietly, no one had interfered with the Khalas' business so far, and although it meant there was nothing to worry about yet, the golden Khal felt uneasy, it was too quiet. Little did Rakharo know that not only he was being followed by an avengeful mercenary, but he would soon stumble upon another Khalas, even smaller than him yet with the same intentions he'd had for leaving the homeland.

indentThe settlement Rakharo had chosen to spend a single night had unexpectedly turned into a temporary base to re-gain strength, and already three nights had passed since the journey had stopped. The prey was abundant in the area and Rakharo couldn't let the opportunity go without making as much of it as possible. He wasn't stupid. Bison was the ideal source of, not only food, but life, and it might have not been as abuundant in the new lands, but that wasn't the only thing that could feed a khalas. They had hunted deer and moose, together, as a pack, and they had been so successful that even the new slave had had plenty to fill her belly twice nights in a row. But their spirits all were still empty.

indentBison weren't only prey. Bison were the Dotharan's every day inspirational source, the strength in the world, and Rakharo prayed every day to the gods for open skies and a large herd to sustain his new Khalas. The gods wouldn't give it to him so easily, but they would sure guide him through the mountains, for as far as they might go, to a land  just as, or even more promising than Rhaesh Dahaan itself.

indentBut for now Rakharo was tranquil to know that what remained of his Khalas wasn't going to starve to death as the weaker had, and he was determined to keep going forward. He was just about to wake his company up to walk west when he heard voices at the top of the hill, and a scent he would never mistake. Wolves were stalking him and his Khalas, and the Khal didn't take that kind of bitches kindly. Alone and imposing, invigorated by a feast they'd had the last night, the golden warrior strode up to the top, stance authoritarian and sharp glare. He made sure they knew he was coming, and he approached from the front with his tail high and puffed chest. Any wolf would tremble to behold the Khal in his best state, and although he wasn't at the moment, he was still a mighty figure to fear.