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The wide country road was full of traffic, most of it moving in the early morning towards the distant smudge of a city. The sun baked down on the heads of travelers, and dust hung thick in the air, kicked up by feet and hooves and wheels. There was no break from the still heat but for the rare tree dotting the side of the road otherwise surrounded by long, flat fields. An old man sat on his small cart full of godds he'd traded for in the city, pulled by a single donkey. His was one of the only carts moving away from the city. He'd been stuck overnight when the gates closed, and had none of his own goods to trade nor any need, so was heading back to his home on the border of the forest. On the very back of his cart rode a young man who watched the traffic going the other way. The old man figured the boy was a run away from a rich family, as he was pale and looked unworked and scrawny under his loose shirt and pants. He had bright red hair and a blue bandanna covering his forehead and ears, which trailed down his back. His belt was leather of high quality, as were his boots. He'd snuck onto the back of the cart and the old man hadn't seen him until they were well out of the city. The boy was probably of age or near to it, so he could make his own decisions. He'd learn soon enough how hard it was to make a living, but it was a lesson the old man thought all people needed to learn. For now he'd give the boy an easy start and give him a free ride as far as his home, then there he'd give him a warning he douted the boy would listen to.

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