After Shamus had finally ridded himself of his Hemlock shadow for the first time that week, the Saffron felt a twinge of doubt at his decision to let him rest. It would have certainly been easier to bully him around when he was tired, as Shamus was feeling relatively spry himself. He was used to traveling, much more than other wolves, the tendons and muscles in his leg were made like iron from the rigors of endless travel. Ah well, a few hours sleep won't do much to pay down that sleep debt he was sure Felonious has accumulated.
Watching the sun tick past its high point and slowly settle into afternoon, Shamus decided to go grab a bite to eat. This time of year was the best time to sample the local cuisine, as vendor were out proudly displaying their finest to foreigners. Colorful pavilions had been set up on the East side of the town to deal with the sudden influx of plains wolves, and Shamus could detect the mouthwatering odors of hot honeyed bread coming from the festival grounds. It had been a long time since he had sampled the staple of his home pack, good Saffron bread. The bread was the staff of life for the plains wolves, as game was scarce in the high population areas and the wheat they used was actually rich enough in protein to sustain a healthy carnivore diet. Not that they didn't like meat still, but it was saved for special occasions.
Laying down in a shaded spot between a bread vendor and a seller who was trading for what looked like glass baubles, Shamus wolfed down a honey roll he had obtained. Delicious. He would make this baker his cook when he was Thane. He took some time to reassure himself of his plan for tomorrow night. It was simple, really. Saffron elections are of an ancient date, an old tradition handed down from a more civilized age. The process of electing a wolf above his brothers was viewed as a sacred process, and tampering with the ceremony was seen as sacrilege and therefore unthinkable. Well, Shamus didn't think much of religion and therefore was free to think what he thought.
The election was always preceded by the Presentation of Forsight, a simple ordeal to prove to the pack who was the most capable at predicting the harvest for the next year. Knowing what the harvest would bring was very important, as it allowed the pack to plan and prepare accordingly, as well as give them guidance as what to do in bad times. There had only been one occasion where the wolf with the most accurate prediction at the Presentation of Forsight was not elected Thane, and that was because he was so sickly that he died that very evening of pneumonia. So all Shamus had to do was to make sure his prediction was nigh irrefutable when the reveal came. And all it took was a little Hemlock poison to be sure the ballot went his way. He would be the luckiest wolf alive if all this worked out.
With a smirk on his face and a full stomach, Shamus stretched out on the soft grass, the gentle hum of the crowds passing by lulling him into security. Pretty soon, Shamus was sound asleep, head on his satchel and emitting a soft snore.