Images of wargs attacking him filled his mind and brought a him strong headache, Cerriel look at him in curiosity and asked him what it was. Both were glad to not be the wargs' feast but now Morthwyl felt as one... An hour earlier they were hunted by a pack of wargs, they got lucky to cross the bridge before the farmhouses, the wargs did not dare to step on it. Now both sat at the farmhouses Northeast of Trestlebridge resting, Cerriel had taken a bath at the lake behind the house and Fion went hunting so that they'd eat something after a day's trip.
Sleep was welcomed by both after a fight and the run, but Fion woke up earlier and walked behind the house, on the mount, crossbow in his hand. He sat there and watched the surroundings, the soil looked like the forest's in his vision, so this must be the land they are. Yet they had a long way ahead of them, he look around thinking of his visions, of the woman in his visions, that red-headed woman whose face he could not see, yet she brought feelings to him. What could that be?
The sun was now almost completely visible and Fion went to check on his horse which he left near the house. Slowly and quietly he made sure that all his things were on it secured and made a fire again to keep Cerriel warm. A new day came and he was closer...
