Wolves

At dawn, we were up and on the road before the sun had risen far enough to dispel the mists that shrouded the mountain roads we traveled.

During that morning, some of us would on occasion glimpse wolf faces among the trees, watching us, keeping pace with the Romany's wagons we rode.

When one saw them from the corner of your eye, they vanished too swiftly to tell much, but I was left with the feeling that there was something odd about them, something wrong with the way they moved. Yet they offered no threat, and ceased to appear after a time, and so were dismissed from our minds.

Around midday, we were halted by a mighty tree that had fallen across the road, toppled as many others by the tempest that had wrecked our ship against the coast. The trunk of this fallen giant was head-high, and the Romanys broke out axes and began to hew two sides of a section large enough to allow our wagons to...

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