Blackfoot Forest Løper

There stretched a long mountain range ahead of her. The pale figure loped easily toward the forest and its dark trees. The sun burned down on her back. If she had been born beneath the Svartravn clan, she would have withered at its touch. Their dark coats were only good for hiding in the shadows. Eventyr did not think of the warring clans, however. She had escaped their beliefs and customs and had found herself in the new land.

Pausing at the edge of the wood, Eventyr bent and sniffed at the ground. Wolves had passed there – tracks left in the dirt to show their pilgrimage toward the stone wall and what existed beyond it. If she did not find anything promising in the forest, she would make the same journey. The moon silver of her eyes traced the mountain to the north.