Rings of Honor

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Each Hunt was the same: hours spent studying the land its lay, learning the paths and breaks, followed by her dogs and mare. Mallt walked as much of the wilds as she could in the time she had, listening, watching, scenting. Familiarity breeds contempt, after all, and she needed know her way without ...

Rather randomly, Mallt emerged from the mists of time and space, moving through the miasma with a rictis grin upon her face. She directed the strangely moist mare she rode upon directly to the notice of the hunt to take place. Her three dogs clamored around her as she dismounted. Delicately, she pat...