It was shortly after leaving the hunting lodge that Graff caught sight of his golden friend waiting ahead. Reaching him, he asked, "Thorn, was worried. What were you snooping into?"
Thorn leaped onto Graff's chest, unbalancing Graff momentarily as until he made contact with Graff's skin. Making himself comfortable, he replied, "Scouting." Yawning, he added, "And wouldn't have lasted without you another hour. I'm just going to take a nap..."
"Oh no you don't. To have been gone that long, what did you learn?"
"The edge of the deep forest is where the border is. There is a border hold a couple miles further with several settlements around it. Just follow the main road right on through and you will blend in better than if you are caught sneaking through the brush. Past there is a winter village of some mercenary guild. You can resupply there." After a moment of silence, Graff pulled his shirt away and looked down to see Thorn fast asleep. A mere tattoo on his chest.
Sighing, he kept up a good pace. Sure enough, as they reached the edge of where the large trees grew he entered a forest of small twig like trees. Or so it seemed to him. If his friend Tom at the lodge hadn't warned him this was the natural state of trees in civilized lands, he would have thought himself dreaming. You couldn't build a house or anything with these trees very easily.
Passing on, he soon saw a stone building amongst the trees. He kept going and soon saw another settlement off on the other side with land cleared for farming. There was the resemblence of a path now and he stepped onto it to continue on.
Thorn started to wake up right about the time Graff came to a small cabin and shed. The place was well kept but obviously vacant. Thorn peaked an eye out of the top of Graff's shirt and volunteered with a yawn, "I think that is a Waystation. Tom mentioned that each area where there isn't an inn or much civilization has one of these so that Heralds are less pressured by local politics. That way on their circuit in the remote areas they can tell the new laws and news as well as dish out judgements."
Graff shook his head, "That is a lot of power for a few individuals."
"But they are not corruptable!" exclaimed Thorn.
"Maybe not their Companions. But Heralds are humans and even a Companion has to admit that sometimes good people turn bad."
Thorn glared at him tucked himself back on Graff's skin with a hiss of annoyance.
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