Systole
First Post
After seeing the Helerionites settled in and collecting her payment, Sylla wordlessly saddles up her horse and rides out of camp the following morning. She gives a brief nod to Captain Threws; the rest are not worth acknowledging, let alone bidding farewell. Over the next few days, Sylla’s path meanders vaguely southward. Around the fire, Boots eventually pipes up. “Why are you pretending you’re not going where you’re going?” he asks.
Sylla narrows her eyes at the darkwolf. “I’m going south. It’s as good a direction as any other.”
“Toward the Goti, though, right?” Boots says.
“We could stop there, yes.”
“Good. They had good food. Lousy beer, though.”
“It didn’t stop you from drinking gallons of it.”
“Well, c’mon. It was beer.”
A few days later, the Goti settlement comes into view, and Sylla rides into it. “My wolf seems to like your beer, and I need a new horse,” she says by way of introduction. “And if there is a hunt leaving soon, perhaps I will ride with your men and teach them how to shoot.”
Sylla narrows her eyes at the darkwolf. “I’m going south. It’s as good a direction as any other.”
“Toward the Goti, though, right?” Boots says.
“We could stop there, yes.”
“Good. They had good food. Lousy beer, though.”
“It didn’t stop you from drinking gallons of it.”
“Well, c’mon. It was beer.”
A few days later, the Goti settlement comes into view, and Sylla rides into it. “My wolf seems to like your beer, and I need a new horse,” she says by way of introduction. “And if there is a hunt leaving soon, perhaps I will ride with your men and teach them how to shoot.”
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