Carts rolled past in both directions, farmers heading toward Eldenreach with produce still wet from the morning drizzle. Gabriel rode among them in silence, hood up, eyes hidden. No one looked twice. To them, he was just another adventurer.
The city thinned behind him.
Dirt roads gave way to open fields, broken by reeds and the slow, winding curve of the river.
He kept the horse at an easy pace. There was no need to rush. Brinekin didn't wander far from water, and they didn't hunt in full daylight.
He had planned to stop at Mera's first.
Hanitz's warning echoed uncomfortably in his mind, and for now, he would proceed cautiously and observe.
Observation had always served him better than impulse.
The last few weeks had been too unpredictable.
He watched the river as he rode, noting where reeds bent unnaturally and where the mud along the banks had been churned by more than boots or hooves. The water moved slow here, almost lazy, but he knew better than to trust it.
