In an effort to know the world around him and the other territories that lingered in Eastrenhold’s backyard, Raelan had taken it upon himself to scout ahead and around. He had done something similar when he and Vidalia had stayed in the North, and if one were to ask him about his progress, he was certain he could remember nearly every path and trail in that winter landscape.

Now, he aimed to do the same here. To create a mental picture of what lingered on either side of the castle walls—of whom might live by their flanks and of what defenses he might need to construct to ensure that the palace and those they led were kept safe.

Today, he had traveled toward the west until his paws had graced the firm earth of a golden-touched glade. Beautiful as it was, and plentiful in life—he had scented the trails of deer and elk alike—he made a mental note that perhaps this was where he and the other knights (when they recruited more knights) could hunt for food should they need to.

However, as his attention remained fixed on the scents of prey that lingered on the wind, Raelan had not paid attention to the scent of another who remained far closer. Perhaps it had been too long since the man was in service…

But as a stranger’s voice peppered the quiet air, Raelan blinked and turned; a pale gaze fixed toward where another stood. Shit.

My apologies, He uttered as he turned on his heels and made his way through what shadowed brush stood between them. I did not mean to startle you. His words were quiet and controlled, amicable by nature, but restrained as he had often learned to do in a place of court.

I was only curious of the elk I scented on the wind, Raelan explained as he halted a measurable distance between the other, just far enough to remain a respectable distance but close enough to at least speak to one another without shouting. Do you live here?