<font style='margin-left:20px;'>After a brief rest that night, morning started with Damascus making his way through the wilting blackberry field. The tangle of brambles did not deter the travel-hardy wolf, who had mostly come out there to bask in the sunlight of the chilly morning. His tawny coat was damp with dew and his feet chilled as he moved effortlessly over the frosty terrain. With the viand blackberry now out of season, it was nothing more than a field to the passing critters that he had seen — two rabbits and a ground squirrel.</font>
<font style='margin-left:20px;'>But he wasn’t in the mood for food, not today. It had been a good couple of days since he had eaten, but he was naturally lean. He was used to this time of year, his second on the road in his pursuit for The Great Something, and knew better than to be greedy. But there were far more pressing things on his mind as a bitter gust of wind served to remind him of what lied just around the corner, and his thoughts had turned swiftly towards settling for the winter. But where? Relic Lore had been very appeasing to him, but he was uncertain if it was that Great Something.</font>
<font style='margin-left:20px;'>Stretching his limbs out on a particularly even patch of ground, he let his focus slip into darkness as he closed his eyes. His Great Something was nothing more than the place he wanted to devote himself to, to achieve the things that most wanted. Home, loyalty, friends, and perhaps even family if he were so lucky. Granted, he had family alive and well somewhere on the pathways behind him, but that was years in the past. He had drank from the cup he had chosen and never once regretted his choices.</font>
<font style='margin-left:20px;'>Sinking down to the cool earth, the wanderer set off rolling in the grasses, mindful of the weak bristles and thorns that lied not too much further outside of his reach. Losing an eye or getting poked anywhere in particular by a disturbed berry bush was not in his interests, not now, not ever.</font></blockquote>