Luneshale Pass the sedge and the bee

The wind was in his favor. The creature had not noticed him yet, which was an ego stroke for the boy.

He was reminded of the fire-mountain, of the pests that would come and hunt the sheep the men tended; before he had become one of those creatures himself, he had made a sport of routing these thieves. The praise he had earned had felt good.

Alone now and hungry, Drusk had no reason to save any part of the creature this time. There was no bounty to be claimed—no food, shelter, or kindness here to be earned. Had he learned to enjoy the taste of these cousins? Hardly; but they were here, and he saw an opportunity.

Being slow and careful as he climbed through the pass was the best method, he had learned. The terrain was irregular. The red of the dirt hid so much, and he did not want to be detected. Thinking of the full belly he would earn through this hunt was enough to garner all of his focus—so when the wind did eventually shift, Drusk had forgotten to keep tabs.