Season of Summer, Day 37, 510 AV
The sun was about to settle. Already the sky started to turn dark, the horizon ablaze in crimson and gold. A first cool breeze made the brushes and trees around Cathan shiver and the large wolf looked around, halted his travel. It would still take an hour or two for the day's warmth to fade and the darkness could not delay his travel either, yet he was unfamiliar with the lay of the land, the rocky path winding up the pass before him. The idea of getting lost in the mountains held little appeal for the kelvic.
He was almost sure it was the right path, could tell so from the rare tracks of hooves pressed into the dirt of the road. He knew knights were patrolling the street leading from Syliras to Zeltiva. More than once he had watched them, laying low under a bush or tree until they passed by. Wolves avoided humans and Cathan could not think of a reason why a pack would attack travelers without provocation, yet he could not tell for sure if not one of men dreamed of a thick wolf pelt laying before his bed at home. The knights were to protect travelers, however that was man's law and the kelvic was not sure it extended to his kind. He had not shown himself, although he was tempted to ask about bandits roaming the area. Now he had seen no patrol for a day, was aware he would not see another one before a few days had passed. More if he moved quickly.
Casual Cathan sniffed at rocks and trees he walked passed, never catching a familiar scent or sign of a wolf pack claiming the area their own. More than twenty days had passed since he had left the first and only wolf kelvic he had ever met behind, fulfilling a duty he was not so sure about anymore. More than once he had since wondered if he had made a mistake, but not once he had turned to correct it.
Breathing out the wolf continued forward. He was a large, but not enormously so. His lithe body was covered in a dark brownish brindled fur, dark around the spine but growing lither, more cream colored towards the belly. When one looked carefully one might see the pale scars laying beneath the thick pelt, signs of some won and even more lost fights. Around his neck hung a leather bag, holding the little possessions he called his own these days. Once in Zeltiva he would have to restock but until then, he had no real need for either clothing nor money.
Eyes shimmering golden in the evening sun looked around warily, but his attention was on the road rather than the path of forest and woods running at its sides. He had caught a rabbit in the morning and he would not be looking for game before the new day, no, he rather made sure to find the quickest way leading through the pass in the hope he might see the sea once he reached the highest point.