In less than half a day's riding, you see your quarry. The twisting strands of campfire smoke rising into the sky draw you like a beacon to the shallow depression in the tundra which the Tribe of the Red Bear currently calls home.
Your heart jumps a little as you set eyes once again on your people, and it takes you a moment to notice what stands in the center of the encampment: a circle of mighty stones, planted in the ground and inscribed with strange markings. The stones are rounded and weathered—clearly ancient—and the inscriptions mean nothing to you.
"There's no reason to waste time waiting here," you say. "There's only one course of action now. I must confront Vanya and get this over with. I am the rightful chieftain of the Tribe of the Red Bear, and it will be mine once more."
"Vanya has no right to rule," agrees Drazha from beside you. "Most of the tribespeople think you are dead. It is time to show them that the truth is not always as it appears."