He didn’t usually hang around at the borders. He was a water seeker by trade but that didn’t mean he couldn’t fight. If anything he’d learned to fight just to wipe the smirks off the faces of soldiers that dared to taunt him.
He had, had a rough morning. He never usually failed in finding water but his trip in to the desert had left him empty pawed. So he had decided to give up the hunt and march right on up to the border. The borders were never lacking in challengers and he was certainly up for a bit of a brawl. It would, at least, get rid of some of the anger he felt at not succeeding in his job.