17th Spring, 510 A.V.
It was just after dawn, but Sam was awake, leaning against Horse for warmth and yawning fit to crack his jaw. He had managed to be ready, though, his tent struck, and now he just went through his saddlebags making sure he had everything that he needed: new hunting knife, five silvers; animal snare, bird, two gold mizas; animal snare, small, five gold mizas; preserving kit, same. That put him back twelve gold mizas and five silver, but he was fairly sure that they would more than pay for themselves soon.
Nodding to himself, he glanced toward the gates to see if any familiar figures were coming out into the thin morning light. He yawned again.