As the crow flies
It's raining.
Spring brings with it its own misery: thawing snows turn frigid pathways into slush and mud, making tracking easier, but moving through it consistently for long periods deeply uncomfortable. There's no peace for the band of men the rogue known as Hawkeye commands along the border between the Northern and Southern kingdoms, however, and the promise of it at a nearby farmstead friendly to their cause is cut dramatically short when one of his scouts returns to report the sighting of smoke - a large amount of it - rising from its location over the next hilltop.
The news is disconcerting, but not entirely a surprise. Here along the border, territories are won and lost each and every day, the people living here constantly at risk from raiders and mercenaries seeking a quick meal and to take advantage of the women there. Stubborn pride keeps them living here, rather than abandoning their self-made stone and wood homes to the tender mercies of Nature.
He spares but a brief glance to his company, turning his mudspattered horse around to do so, before pulling his bow from his shoulder and stringing it in preparation for whatever they might find ahead. But he takes a moment to address the one rider amongst them who is not a regular part of their crew.
"You should stay here with Bors. I'll send someone for you when it's safe."
Spring brings with it its own misery: thawing snows turn frigid pathways into slush and mud, making tracking easier, but moving through it consistently for long periods deeply uncomfortable. There's no peace for the band of men the rogue known as Hawkeye commands along the border between the Northern and Southern kingdoms, however, and the promise of it at a nearby farmstead friendly to their cause is cut dramatically short when one of his scouts returns to report the sighting of smoke - a large amount of it - rising from its location over the next hilltop.
The news is disconcerting, but not entirely a surprise. Here along the border, territories are won and lost each and every day, the people living here constantly at risk from raiders and mercenaries seeking a quick meal and to take advantage of the women there. Stubborn pride keeps them living here, rather than abandoning their self-made stone and wood homes to the tender mercies of Nature.
He spares but a brief glance to his company, turning his mudspattered horse around to do so, before pulling his bow from his shoulder and stringing it in preparation for whatever they might find ahead. But he takes a moment to address the one rider amongst them who is not a regular part of their crew.
"You should stay here with Bors. I'll send someone for you when it's safe."