A young woman travels down a dusty old path in the middle of the plains. She has a grey plain robe, wooden staff to walk with, and a backpack on her shoulders. Her entire head is covered with a hood attached to the robe and she looks downwards at the path ahead of her. The wind blows, causing her robe to flow and letting some of her auburn hair fly with the wind. She could smell the scent of fresh grass with a hint of a flower's natural scent. The sun was just beginning to creep along the sky but the young woman did not look at the sun. Even she knew that would be incredibly stupid. 

Her name was Tristana Deformem. The robes Tristana wore had dirt splattered around it. After all she did spend the cold night sleeping in a hole in the ground with only her blanket to warm her. A huge mistake. However it was better than being eaten by the countless monsters above the ground. Tristana stopped for a moment and reached towards her canteen. It was mostly filled, showing how little she had traveled the night before. She drank the water then sealed the canteen. Tristana let it drop at her side before continuing her long walk. This was one of those times she had wished she had one of the horses she had heard so much about. A horse to ride across the long plains instead of walking the entire way. That would have been so nice. And probably so expensive. But wishing for what you didn't have never got anybody anywhere. So she mentally told herself to shut up and continued walking. 

Although she did know the dangers of the plains, particularly the monsters and tribes that no doubt would love to murder her, she still couldn't help but admire the beauty of the plains. Against the bright blue sky, the grassy plains looked exquisite. Or that could just be the fact she had never stepped outside of a cabin room for the last seventeen years. Regardless to her, everything seemed gorgeous. She then heard a sound of a squeak and stopped in her tracks. A few feet away from her was a little mouse scattering it's way across the path. Tristana watched as it ran into the grassy fields and listened to it's squeaks. She thought about leaving the path to follow where it went. Where was it going? What was it up to? These questions burst into her mind as she began to follow the little mouse. Of course it could lead her to a pit of death or a monster that only wanted to kill Tristana. But why would it want to? Besides it seemed to not notice her anyways. So she began walking of the path in a diagonal direction. Creating a new path for herself.  

Somewhere on the plains, there was a small tent pitched beside a tree. There was a campfire going, and a cooking pot suspended over the burning kindling. The orc raked the coals a bit more, then resisted the urge to check on how the food was coming along. "Patience, Delanac. Rarebit's not something that's done in a minute." Today he decided to make one of his old favorite dishes back before he left home. Rarebit was a simple, but tasty snack that was filling. You didn't need much–just some bread, cheese, and spices. If you wanted to make it real fancy, you could add cream or an egg to make it better. But being on the road meant perishables were harder to come by outside of towns. The black jackal was impatiently watching the cast-iron crock. He whined and panted, wagging his tail while eyeing the pot with food. 

"Not yet, boy. It'll be done soon. How about you go run around a bit? When it's done I'll holler to ye." The black dog's ears perked up and he was off in a flash. Bran and he had been on the road for a few days already, and he could tell they were both missing home-cooked food. To be fair, Bran wasn't picky and would eat almost anything. Maybe he was spoiling him a bit, having him eat the same stuff and all. While the jackal ventured from the campsite, he put his snout to the ground and followed his nose. His owner had taught him to find and dig up edible roots when supplies were low, and for the dog it was fun and games. There was a bright red scarf tied around Bran's neck so Delanac could find him more easily. After chasing some birds, he caught wind of a new smell. Running after it, he started barking as he got closer to the lone girl. With tail and tongue wagging, he was barreling towards the stranger with as much energy a cheerful pup.

Delanac was still watching the fire, waiting until he began to see steam spill out from beneath the pot lid. The savory aroma of melted cheese and garlic was delicious, and it quickly spread out over the area. Humming to himself, the orc rummaged through his pack for the bread. Pulling out a stale loaf of black rye, he checked if it was spoiled. It was dry, but edible. The molten cheese would help soften it some once he slathered it over the slices. Taking his oak chopping block, he wiped it down and started cutting through the dry crust.

Tristana suddenly heard the sound of barking. She looked up from the mouse but couldn't see anything. The tall grass made it difficult to see any animals coming towards her. Until the dog barked again. She looked to the direction of the sound and spotted a dog with a red scarf tied around it's neck. It was barraling right towards her with what seemed to be happiness. Tristana didn't exactly know what to do at first. Was she supposed to say hello? But dogs couldn't speak so that really didn't make any sense. Should she pet it? What if the happy looking creature secretly wanted to kill her or…. now was not the time to be thinking of that terrible outcome. If it did try to attack her she could always use her protection spell then run away. After all running away was one of the best defenses out there. 

Tristana decided to stay because it was something new. A new creature that she had only heard about but never got the chance to actually meet. Curiosity overwhelmed her as she kneeled down to get closer to the dog that was coming straight at her. Probably not one of her best ideas. The dog was as black as the night sky. Which was the best thing for her to compare it too. As black as the night sky on a starless night. Tristana looked at the dog's bright red scarf. Did this animal belong to somebody? That was the only explanation for the decor around it's neck. She wondered if the animal was lost. Probably not. Or it wouldn't look so happy. Perhaps it was lost and seeing somebody out in the plains was such a relief. No matter who it was. That didn't make sense either. If a dog was tame then wouldn't it be unable to hunt for itself? These questions and many more raced through her mind as she watched the excited animal. 

Suddenly she could smell a scent from not to far away. It had been carried by the wind over the small distance. Tristana's eyes glanced up to the plains and spotted a bit of smoke rising in the distance. A fire? Most likely but the scent didn't smell like burning wood. It smelled like something she couldn't exactly pinpoint. Just as quickly as the smell came, it had gone. But she had noticed the smoke now. Maybe somebody had a camp. Tristana was rather nervous at that idea. It could be somebody dangerous after all. Somebody who probably killed and ate the bone of their enemies for breakfast but kept the head as a trophy to show their family. Tristana pushed that thought out of her mind. That was a terrible idea. Of course that's what she had been told would probably happen but Tristana and her curiosity wanted to find out for herself. 

Bran was well-cared for, and as happy as could be. Stopping on a dime, he was just inches again from tackling the startled girl and began leaning forward on his front legs. His tail was wagging like a flag in a storm, and his tongue hung out from his mouth. The jackal then ran in circles around her, barking all the way. Then, he stopped and stood erect. Turning his head to look off into the distance, he smelled that the food was ready. Before the smoke disappeared, he suddenly bolted in the camp's direction yelping up a storm. His enthusiasm caused flocks of birds to flee the fields as he ran, leaving an obvious trail for the girl to follow. Delanac rarely had to call him when it was time to eat. Bran always knew when to come. It was something that all animals shared, the natural senses of hearing and smell that told them more than sight alone.

The jackal was running back, excited as ever. He danced around the crock pot and hopped over to where his owner was readying slices of bread for the rarebit. "Hey, back already boy? Always right on time, you are. Now sit tight, and I'll get a nice heapin' helping for ye." Keeping the bread out of Bran's reach, he lifted the lid off the steaming pot. The fragrance of cheese and garlic roasted well-done went up into the air like incense burnt from censers. Taking in a deep breath, he took it all in. "Ahh….smells like home. Just like mam used to make it." Spooning a ladle of the molten goodness, he fanned the liquid cheese on the bread slices, watching it run into the holes and cracks like water on a thirsty riverbed. "That's lovely, isn't it? Proper tasty, too. Alright Bran, you've been such a good boy sitting still. Here you go." Placing a plate of bread with cooled cheese, the dog tore into it with joy. Delanac was ready to dig in too, having waited long for this moment. Pulling off a piece dripping with rarebit, he took a bite and closed his eyes. Ahh–bliss. He was so absorbed into savoring the goodness that he didn't notice if anyone else was around. The same could be said for Bran, as well.

Tristana would see a rather tall and burly orc and his camp, a fire that was burning, and the same dog that had greeted her so cordially earlier. There weren't any signs of others around, just the two of them. This orc was dressed fairly simply. Typical clothes a person would wear, not some tribal garb made from animal skin with bone trinkets. The camp itself was pretty tidy too.

As she observed the dog she could see that the dog seemed to be well-cared for. That was a bit of a relief since it meant that he had a home to return to. Good. Suddenly the dog stopped a few inches in front of her. Either it was well trained or it had just natural manners. Or perhaps that's how dogs worked? Tristana reached her hand out to the top of the dog's forehead and stroke it's soft fur only once. Then the dog sprinted into a run and circled around her many times before coming to a stop. It was adorable! The way that he seemed so easily distracted yet somehow satisfied with everything in the world. Before she could reach down to pet it again, the dog bolted away in a specific direction. The exact same direction the smoke was in.

Tristana could hear it barking as if it was pronouncing itself to the world so that everybody could follow it. There was one thing that Tristana knew. She really wanted to pet that soft fur again. Throughout her entire life she had never touched any animal or thing for that matter that was as soft or as beautiful as that dog. So she did the only thing she could do. Tristana plunged into the thick tall grass in the direction that the dog went. The tall grasses tickled her legs and face but she resisted the urge to scratch. Instead she continued forwards listening to the sound of the dog's barks. She also spotted a flock of geese fly into the air away from the location of the dog. It was difficult to keep up with a dog being only human. Her breath quickened as she began to run faster and faster. She needed to know where the dog was going. Out of curiosity and out of the desire to pet it again. Tristana then tripped over her own feet and hit the ground with a splat. Unharmed, she got back up and continued running. 

Suddenly she had reached the area that the dog was headed to. Before she even saw the orc she could smell the scent of some sort of food and hear the words of a man greeting his dog. She crept a bit closer but let herself remain hidden in the tall grasses. What if this person wanted to kill her or burn her? Of course she was like this for anybody that she didn't know. The first person she had ever even met that wasn't her uncl- Nevin, she fully expected the woman to destroy her. Tristana had to keep reminding herself that not everybody was the same and therefore she couldn't assume people were that cruel. Still Tristana wanted to be cautious. Her hand reached the hood that had fallen off her head and laid relaxed on her bag. After pulling the hood over her head she felt a little bit better. Then she finally took a good look at the stranger next to the campfire. Whatever he was cooking already made her mouth water. But she knew that he probably had a short supply of food. And she had some supplies. Taking or asking food from a stranger would be rude. Especially when going to somebody as low as her. Tristana continued to observe the man and finally noticed that he wasn't a man. Although she didn't know what he was. She had only ever known of humans and had never been taught about other races except for the gods. If immortality counted as a race that is. And she was fairly certain it doesn't.

Tristana's eyes wandered to the fire and the desire to be near a warm area almost made her step out. However she wanted to bring him something so he knew that she wasn't intending on attacking him. Tristana looked inside her backpack as quietly as she could and brought out some dried apple pieces. It wasn't exactly a great gift but it was a gift nonetheless. Now the next difficult task. Approaching this person. That would most likely be the hardest thing for her to do and she knew it. Perhaps she should go straight up to him? No too forwards and it might be seen as threatening. Maybe wait and let the dog introduce her? No too creepy. After a few moments of thinking Tristana concluded that the best option would be to approach slowly and only come forward if he didn't seem to mind. Besides if she did this right then the man might allow her to pet his beautiful dog. It was time to show herself now before the dog exposed her hiding place. Tristana then stepped out of the tall grass with a small pouch filled with many dried apple pieces. She walked twelve steps forwards before holding out the pouch to the man. 

"Hello." She said casting her eyes downwards to the ground. 

From Bran's point of view, a young woman with a grey robe, auburn hair, and a hood covering her head stepped out of nowhere offering him a gift. She had worn purple slippers, a backpack, and a staff that she had tied to her backpack along with her bow. Since apparently, she didn't know how to hold her bow and a backpack at the same time. However her face would be difficult to see unless one pulled off her hood. To say she was strange would be to put it lightly. 

A stranger's voice pulled him out of his savory daydream, and he turned to look. Bran rolled his eyes towards the sound as well, but seeing it was the same girl he had met before he paid no mind and continued chomping down the cheese-covered bread. Delanac scratched his head as he looked at the cloaked figure holding out a small bag to him. "Oh–er, hello to you too there." The jackal wasn't barking, but that was probably because he was too busy eating. The piece of bread was devoured in an instant, and he sat wagging his tail licking the edges of his mouth. The dog looked to his owner as if asking for more, panting with his tongue hanging out and eagerness in his eyes. Delanac was thrown off by this person's sudden appearance. He was sure he didn't hear or see anybody around when he set up camp or while he was cooking. That was quite careless of him, to think of it. He was more surprised at why they were holding this bag to him. Most people when they saw an orc would run in the opposite way, screaming. Also him being the tall and burly sort didn't help matters in that way either.

"If ye don't mind me asking, are you saying the bag's meant for me?" He asked with his thick Yovaeshi accent. This stranger looked small and mouse-like, somehow. Couldn't see their face well with that hood and all. Worried he'd scare them off, he motioned to one of the makeshift seats he had lying around. "Well…how 'bout a seat? Don't mind that, do you?" The jackal began to whine, demanding more food. "Shh, hold your horses Bran. Ye know eating a big meal all of a sudden's going to burst your belly." The orc hushed his dog. The jet-black dog laid down on the ground, placing his head between his front paws. Looking up with big puppy eyes, his tail wagged a little less wildly as he whimpered. He was proper cheeky at times, but good-natured. And he was proving to be a good hunting hound too. 

Only too late did Tristana realize how strange she seemed to have acted. However she couldn't think of any other way to show that she wasn't a threat. However she was thankful that the dog didn't start barking. Then again it was stuffing it's mouth with food so it wasn't as if it could bark anyway. She observed the strange person and realized that it wasn't the trick of the light. He was actually a blue-grey shade of skin. Instantly thousands upon thousands of questions popped up in her mind about this new person. But she kept her mouth shut so that she wouldn't say anything strange and scare off this person. She didn't want to call him man since it was clear he wasn't one. However she didn't want to call him an it. There seemed to be no way of addressing him until he decided to inform her of his name. No doubt he would want her name in exchange. Tristana had no issue with that. Then this person spoke up, clearly surprised at the gift she held out to him. 

"The bag is for you. Inside are dried apple pieces." Tristana explained. 

She then placed the bag next to the stranger so he could easily get it then took a seat on one of the makeshift chairs. Her eyes drifted to the dog as it whined for more food. Even though it had just had a mouthful of stuff to eat. However she wasn't surprised. Most animals liked eating. Or at least that's what she assumed. 

"Perhaps he would like a bone or something to chew on?" She suggested gently, "That won't make his stomach burst, will it?"

Tristana looked up at the orc unsure if that was true or not. Seeing as she had only heard that dogs enjoyed bones a few days ago from eavesdropping on some travelers she had hid from. Even then she wasn't certain if that was a fact or rumor. One had to be careful to separate the two. Otherwise one could get themselves into danger. Tristana wondered how long this stranger and his dog had been traveling. Maybe a month or a few weeks? She was unsure seeing as she had no idea where they were going or where they came from. 

"I'm Tristana." She mentioned quietly so the stranger would have a way to address her. 

Well something that was better than mam or miss. 

"Is that so? That's proper generous of you." He took it carefully, not wanting to scare the girl. She looked like she was ready to bolt at a moment's notice. Realizing that she might not have even eaten yet, he looked back at the remaining slices of bread on the chopping block. There should still be plenty of rarebit left simmering in the pot, and it was only fair to share. The girl watched Bran for a while, and then suggested: "Perhaps he would like a bone or something to chew on? That won't make his stomach burst, will it?" Looking back at the jackal staring up with pleading eyes, he gave a sigh. "There's an idea. Problem is, we're plumb out of bones. If we had any he'd be helping himself to one." He might have to track down some deer to make some dried jerky. Then there'd be plenty of bones for Bran to snack on in between meals. Delanac thought about how much he was feeding him lately, and considered cutting back a little. Bran was a friendly pup, but letting him eat the same stuff as him might make him expect everybody to feed him. He'd get too used to eating food for folks and beg. Disciplining him was something he had to keep up on, as much as he loved his dog.

"Name's Delanac. It's been nice meeting you Miss Tristana." Going over to get a clean plate, he took a slice of bread and lifted the lid of the steaming pot. Scooping a ladle of rarebit, he carefully poured the cheese liquid over the dry rye slice and fanned it to cool. "Here, as thanks for the apples. Dried fruit's a real treat when you're out on the road." Offering the food to the girl, he eyed his pet whose gaze was fixated on the new plate. "No Bran, you only get one now. You can have more after you run around and dig about. We're running short on roots, so if we can find some parsnips we'll be lucky." The dried apples would have to be kept out of Bran's reach too, he wouldn't be able to digest them well. The jackal whined, and rolled over on its side. But, he understood his owner's tone of voice and settled down. Since Delanac wasn't eating another helping himself, the dog didn't feel like he was intentionally withholding food from him. Wagging his tail, he got up and began walking around the small camp in circles, watching his owner talk with the stranger he had smelled earlier.

Sitting down, Delanac leaned his head on his hand. "Bran likes you. He really likes people, he does. As soon as he sees a new face or someone he hasn't seen in a while, he's off like a rabbit and prancing around. Before he'd even jump up and knock 'em clean off their feet! Had to teach him to hold back some, so now he doesn't move onto that last bit except towards me. So, have you been on the road long?"

Tristana's eyes widened as she recieved a plate of food. "Thank you." She said. Then Tristana held the plate up to her mouth then opened her mouth. Then she began pouring as much food as she could into her mouth. Tristana placed the plate onto a smooth rock then with full cheeks, she began to actually chew and swallowed quickly. Then she used her sleeve to wipe her mouth. Her attention returned back to the orc. "I'm glad your dog likes me. Is it strange for dogs to be friendly? I've heard that they rip off your face if you go near them. " She asked her eyes glancing down at the dog. Perhaps that wasn't true. It seemed to her that the world wasn't as dangerous as it was described to her. There was no doubt that the world was a terrible place, but there seemed to be at least a little good in the world. Which made her glad. "I've been on the road for a little bit. I actually first started walking on the road about three weeks ago. Before then I was walking in a forest, which didn't have any paths." Tristana explained, "Does it count when you're in a fortress? Zanar's fortress had paths too."

Clearly she had missed the point of the question. But everything she had said was true. In fact she was currently the furthest away from home that she had ever been. Then again she didn't know if calling the cabin home was proper or if there was another word she needed to use. 
"I really like it out here." Tristana admitted, "The breeze is nice and it's fascinating to watch everything. Like how the bugs carry food down little holes or how the birds fly to a pile of sticks in the trees. I can't help but wonder what they are doing. Sometimes I like to sit and watch them."

She then looked at the sky, her heart feeling light with… what was the word? She felt like she could fly or dance. It had to be happiness. Tristana smiled, oblivious that her hood had fallen when she looked up. Her face was easily seen. There was a large ugly scar that started from her forehead and went down to her chin. Her left eye, where the scar was, looked white. Freckles where on her face and her bright red hair was down and free. When it came to her face, one could describe it as ugly. Most did. Tristana was still oblivious of her hood and turned back to the orc. 

"What about you?" She asked, "How many times have you walked in the path?" 

The girl ate like she hadn't had a decent meal in ages. Poor thing must've been doing her best to get by all on her own. She then asked him something rather surprising, wondering if it was odd for dogs to take a shine to people instead of attacking whoever got close. "I don't know what experiences you've had with dogs, Miss Tristana–but as far as I know, most animals give us upright walkers a wide berth, they do. They don't normally become ornery unless you're making them feel scared, or you've been unlucky enough to get between a mum and their littlies. Even so, a scared dog would rather make a break for it than bite if they can help it. Now there's some folks who teach their dogs to bite just like you said; nasty pieces of work they are. In those cases the dogs aren't much better off than the victims too." He shook his head at the humanity of it all. Only somebody with a heart blacker than jet could think to hurt an animal and force them to think anybody wanted to hurt them. That was why those dogs were mad as they came to be. 

Bran yawned and went to trot around the camp, chasing after sparrows that flew down to peck at the ground in between clumps of grass. His owner continued to talk with the girl, resting as the sun passed overhead. Listening to her recount her travels, the orc nodded. "Oh so you've been wandering here and there, looks like. There's plenty of forests, so I can't make heads or tails of where you might've come from." She then mentioned someone called 'Zanar', a name he hadn't heard before. "Can't say, miss. I've never heard of him, mun. I'd take it that most fortresses have paths, so people can see where to go. But I've never seen the one you've mentioned." The world was a wide place, and the wilds were vast as they were beautiful. Even when he thought he knew the plains and countryside well, there were always new little nooks and crannies to discover, and hidden spots that he'd never seen the first time around. 

They sat in the sun, with the calm breezes of the plains brushing by. She began to talk more, not about herself directly, but about things she saw and liked. Watching the birds and bugs do their work was always a nice way to pass the time out here where you had the land below and open sky above. Away from the cities and towns, you could finally look up and watch the clouds drift on, and the stars twinkle at night. "Can't disagree with you there. They're always going about their business without a care in the world. But they have some sense to it, too. If you look, you'll see the birds make their houses in Terra, get settled in proper by Ignius, and be watching their littlies head out on their own by Venti. Then they pack their bags, fly to somewhere warmer, and come back when Glaciem's over." As they chatted the girl's hood fell down, and when she turned to ask him another question he was taken aback by her face. "Oh…" He did his best not to bring it up, else he make the girl feel upset. Twas a nasty looking scar, and an old one too. Looking at the other half, one time both sides must've looked the same. She was young, and her good eye was still pretty as a gemstone. 

When she asked him if all dogs were mean and ornery, he'd thought she'd never seen one before. But looking at her face and putting that with her words together, Delanac started thinking she might've been living no better than Bran. Did somebody do that to her? Oh right, he still had a question to answer. Clearing his throat, he crossed his arms as he looked at the sky. "How many times you say? That's got to be more than I can count on both hands. I've been walking for years now. Some days it's tougher than others, but I told myself I'd keep at it until I achieved my dream. I still have a ways to go though, but you can't rush things like that." He had left his family back in Yovaesh to prove to his pa that people who prepared food were artisans too. So far he'd learned many techniques and interesting recipes, but he'd been getting homesick lately. Even so, he couldn't just come back. He couldn't until he knew he was ready to show his old man what he'd learned. So far he felt he still wasn't good enough.