Barrow Fields i left my flaming sword beside your bed

The harrowing feeling the gnawed at Angler's gut was armed with blunt teeth and a growl, the unsettling thing dropping his stomach and sending it into a slow churn of anxious unease. He walked lightly across the light of the dying horizon, the shadow cast far by the sun mirroring his deliberate movements. Before he had knew it, he was upon a small gathering of deer, and he felt he could not be alone, for they glanced across their shoulders and froze at something other than himself.

He walked along the lines of hills they sat in between, hunger was no factor for him now, and he was barely moved by the presence of deer when in groups. His mind was set on nursing the river's banks for a little more water the next day before heading out to the coast and walking south at that edge. however, stranger to the land, he would scout for more wolves wherever he went. He could catch a scent on the windless hills, but his eyes did not see the moving figure from the hill he now closed in on as his head bowed to the ground.