Lead (Follower)

She traveled the road north, resting only once every few days. Some instinct she couldn't explain told her when it was safe to rest, or when she should move on. Thus, she encountered no danger on her travels.

A week of unexhausted travel brought her to a circular town. A trench surrounded it except for bridges to the north and south. The walls were made from sharpened logs that combined with the elevated ground rose above the forest.

Numb or apathetic, she walked in. A plump woman with sun-gold hair and eyes greeted her at the gate. "Welcome to Ferngath!"

"I'm--" her voice caught on her dry throat, so she tried again, "I'm looking for survivors from Farsfield."

"Farsfield? I have a few staying at my inn. They're kinda on house arrest though."

"Why?"

"They were traveling with a Chaos Scarred and failed to report it to the guards, until the blonde did it. Then, the Scarred ran off, taking one of his companions with him. We're holding the rest for their protection."

"Scarred... Left arm, left eye, left side of the face?"

"I ain't never seen the left side of his face, but left arm for sure. Looked like the whole arm."

"Where is he?" a passion that had laid dormant in her for a week surged.

"He ran north-west. No one has a clue where he went. Adventurers have been keeping an eye out all day, you see."

"When did he leave?"

"Yesterday morning. Made a huge fuss with it too."

"Thank you," the traveler said, turning to exit the way she came.

"Y'know, Missy, I ain't never seen anyone with hair like yours. That's a very pretty color."

"I haven't either."

She left Ferngath and headed north-west. She was close. Close to finding him.

She tucked a lock of silver hair behind her ear as she entered the forest.