A Warrior's Redemption (The Warrior Kind) (Chapter Three - Hunted, page 1 of 8)

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We sailed through the night and most of the next day before we reached the far end of the lake, which bordered the Silepsium Moors. I had never seen a more foreboding stretch of land, as was laid out before me now. Not even the Hagathic Wastelands could compare with the somber mood of these moors.

I kept my reservations about the gloomy moors to myself though. No need to infect the boy with my uneasiness. I pulled the boat up onto the shore and after a brief meal of fish we started out into the moors.

The boy was like a shadow in how close he stuck to me. He was still as silent as he had been since we'd left Kharta. That night we had another fire and ate some more fish along with a few wild vegetables that I had managed to scavenge on the way.

Things were going well for us, until the next day. As we were traveling along through the scrub brush of the moors a sense of foreboding came over me. We were being watched! I glanced at the boy behind me and I could see that he sensed that something was different as well. Perceptive boy, I thought approvingly to myself. I put my hand on his shoulder reassuringly, and felt him draw slightly closer to me. I had been followed before, it was in fact almost a daily occurrence in my life, but this feeling of being followed was different in some way. It took me a couple of hours of puzzling over it to realize what was different and then it was almost too late.

I didn't tell the boy, as it would only have stressed him out more and he would find out soon enough what was following us. I quickened our pace through the dense brush searching the gathering darkness ahead of us for a spot to make a good account of ourselves and perhaps live out the night.

We weren't being followed by humans. Moor wolves were shadowing us! I had heard the stories and the stories had been enough to convince me that I didn't want any part of them. Unfortunately I did have them, quite a lot of them. Moor wolves traveled in packs. The wolves of my home country that I had never seen were of a bigger build than these moor wolves and remained solitary for most of their lives.

I could see wolves ghosting along behind us now, through the gathering shadows.


Looking off to my right I saw another wolf lurking not twenty yards off to the side of us. That was a bad sign. The wolves of my home country didn't hunt men as a rule, but I had heard that if moor wolves were hungry they would attack just about anything. The boy had noticed the wolves and his pace after me quickened even more. These wolves were definitely interested in us as prey, because they were moving in on us now, which was a clear indicator that they had gone past the point of being merely curious as to our presence here.

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