Kalabnalu trekked close by the Greenway. He always kept the road in sight but never walked it. Passing the farming areas, a horse farm, and entering the Wildwood. Trekking the Wildwood, he hoped that perhaps an abandoned cabin, or maybe a small farm, could be found to settle in. Yet, soon enough, traversing the lakeside, he saw hints of civilization.
Farmland. An old, abandoned cabin made the looks for a good base of operations, but Kalabnalu wanted to be thorough. He would scout the entire area. Walking further he found himself at the outskirts of a farm. Orchards lined the landscape as he leapt in, stole a single cherry, then left again. Yet, the final building made him grin in the pleasure of his fortune. He popped the cherry in his mouth and spit out the pit. He found himself gazing on his greatest stroke of luck yet.
An inn.
He stepped closer, pulling his cloak up, and entered the property. Gazing upon the sign of the inn, he read the inn's identity. The Huntsman and the Stag.
