Our meeting place is thick with tension and nervous energy. I am worn, dirty, hungry, tired and snappish. The last leg of my journey was more harried than I would have liked. Other riders than my pack mates were out and about and one was now dead by a flighted bite. Doran hovers at the edge leering at Baine’s back as he paces. Why is he so nervous? Faolan isn’t far away.

A few scrawny rabbits and fish are roasting over the small flame. It makes my mouth water, but I wait. The game wasn’t anything I had caught, better to wait than lose my hand. Cùnga seemed somehow not as bad off as we are in the south. Maybe the Huntress hadn’t made her rounds this far…yet. Once we get down to the business of eating I tell my tale of the other riders. I did not know if how much of a foe they were or are, because surely they are not friend at least are far as outlaws would be concerned. Few questions arise, but the warning I have given. Best we approach with more caution. If the game has proven to be more plentiful here, then they are probably more equipped with strength to repel a mangy bunch of raiders. Apparently Oran feels the same as he voices the same concerns. So he also saw others.

Baines comes to the fore with a wrinkle in her brow. Narrowing my eyes down to slits at her I ask, “Have you something to share with us?” My question comes out harsher than I had anticipated. I didn’t quite understand my own grumpiness with her. I’d work on that later after dealing with the hag. Baine was after all, the only friend I had since Sean’s disappearance…

She glowers at me before speaking…