The village on the hill was her destination, Gwennol was certain of it and yet she was confused as to why. The symbol of the boar was everywhere, on banners and carved from stone and spouting water. In the fields surrounding the town, there were signs of boars in the field. Her heavy drab robes dragged against the cobblestones and she saw the stares and gawking mouths as she passed by the merchants at their stalls. The common tongue was spoken here and she could understand more than what she could speak back. Her craban cawed and flapped his wings, setting on her shoulder.
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