As a sometimes social scientist, Hunter knew that the truth behind any major event was almost impossible to get to. There were generally as many truths as there were people to speak them. Only by surveying a wide variety of interpretations, preferably from subjects as close to the event as possible, was it likely that one might find out what had actually happened. Furthermore, he wanted to have something firsthand to test against any responses he might get from the faculty at Brunnhold. It would be good to have some idea of just what level of twisting went into the "official" version of things. He told himself these things even as the thrill of adrenalin sent simmering waves of warmth up his spine to belie the rationalized reason for his escapade.

His studies of local wildlife included a lot of off-campus observational work, much of it at night to match the rhythms of the mostly nocturnal mammals he was studying. It was not uncommon for him to head out with his bander companion, afoot or on a borrowed moa, and spend his ninths outside Brunnhold proper. So getting away had been easy: shortly after dinner, he'd rounded up supplies and set off. The pass he'd been using, signed by the professor responsible for overseeing his Independent Study in Animal Behavior, didn't specifiy what times Hunter was allowed to come and go. As long as he turned in some reasonably detailed observation journals and didn't miss another class or formal dinner, there should be no repercussions.

Several hours later he had been tempted to question his decision. It had been a while since he'd journeyed that far by himself or taken such a long ride amount. He had a newfound appreciation for the comforts of a cart. But by then he was too far along.

Sunrise.

Hunter stopped to stretch and water the moa – an ugly but hearty gray beast of a bird – at a pond just off the road. Streak made a show of chasing something in the weeds nearby, the wolf seemed determined to prove just how much stronger he was than his golly friend.

Relaxing for a bit, he sang out the last few lines of "Fergus Far-traveler" – a song about an explorer who'd traveled the ten kingdoms only to get lost in the jungles of Shotha. During the course of the ride, Hunter had managed to make it through all fifty-five verses and his baritone was sounding a little road-weary.