The smell of pine filled his nostrils. The wind blew cross-ways against him, fluttering his shoulder-length hair into his face. The calling of birds and chirping of insects challenged to drown out the sound of the wind. But to Lukas, it was nearly silent. He had lived through nature's sounds for long enough to tune them out and focus on what he wanted to.
Right now, he was focused on continuing to read the book on weaving as he momentarily rested to eat a quick meal. He read through the same passages he had the previous night. He knew it would take at least half a week to reach Bellrock, three days with good weather, two without rest and with a fast pace.
