It had been a few weeks since Mason Ostermark had received a letter from no less than General Frederik Locke, esteemed leader of the Pandora Ranger corps himself, requesting that Mason attend the Festival of light in Olympus . He passed through the lush, green countryside on his small ranger-horse, Kicker, viewing the lively landscape. Autumn had nearly arrived in Pandora, and eventually, all of this green land would wither and die just before early winter, so Mason took in as much of the beautiful sight as he could. The chilly Northern wind that carried the autumn weather blew back Mason's Hood and opened his forest green cloak, he casually pulled the cowl back down over his face, then grabbed both sides of his cloak and gathered them about himself.
Kicker neighed softly and looked towards the north as he continued to walk along the grass.
"Shhh, we'll be fine", Mason soothed his companion, and then let his own cowled gaze travel across the rolling landscape. Kicker had probably caught the scent of a pack of wolves. Wolves tend to frequent the tundra and snowy woods near Kensington, and they would move south as the temperature dropped. Mason heard a blood-chilling howl that was uncomfortably close, he looked back to the north again and saw a silhouette upon a hill, and soon there were several on both sides of it.
Kicker neighed again, though a bit quieter and turned his head so that his right eye rested on Mason. What now?, his horses gaze seemed to ask.
Mason stroked his companion's mane gently.
"We'll worry about them later". He whispered to his animal friend.
The last thing you wanted to do was run from a pack of wolves. but Mason didn't think the wolves would gain on them for awhile. Just to be safe, he unhooked his longbow from it's shoulder strap, and rested it on his saddle, then slid an arrow from its quiver on his left shoulder and rested it on top of the bow then made sure his Long-blade was within reach from the side of the saddle he had strapped it to for the journey. Every so often, Mason would hear a howl, but other than that, he and Kicker traveled on without incident for several hours. Beginning to tire as the sun set, and not seeing or hearing any sign of the wolf pack, Mason decided to make camp at a small gathering of trees he was coming up on, and noticed a small stream about 100 yards from the group of trees. He dismounted has he entered the shady area then took the saddle and the gear attached to to it off of kicker, along with the reigns and sat them down on the ground. Immediately, kicker set off for the stream as an unconcerned Mason laid his head on the saddle as a pillow and wrapped up in his cloak, knowing that the intelligent Ranger horse would come back after he had drank his fill.
Soon, Mason drifted off to sleep.