It was a futile attempt at cheer, as he knew it would be. Tinder had grown more plentiful as he had descended into the Sharval Wilds, and Kehr tried to find some comfort in the thought of warm food after weeks of dried venison. The large man busied himself with the fire as the shuffling drew closer. It did not matter how far Kehr had traveled that day, how many rivers he had forded or cliffs he had scaled. cold and white, frayed tendon and cracked bone worn bare over countless miles of frost-rimmed rock. This was when the whispered sound of the evening breeze would crumble into the slow, shuffling rasp of feet. Always at sundown.Īs the sky bruised and the shadows grew long into night, he stood to watch the sun disappear behind the mountains.
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