Arngeir awoke and opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the ruin of last nights fireplace. After that he noticed the cold grey sky, and then a dear grazing the plains underneath said sky. He was able to raise himself to a sitting position with only a small surge of strength, grabbed his waterskin and quenched his thirst. Then, after a few moments of staring into oblivion, he stood up and took a deep breath. Where would he go today? He knew that the small settlement of Rorikstead lay not far from the little roch he'd slept under this last night. He also knew the chances were he wasn't very welcome there since his last visit, when he'd been caught fooling around with the eldest of Mralki the inkeepers daughters, resulting in him getting thrown out from the village. Then again, at least a year had passed since that incident and he was in desperate need of more food. Besides, he had new stories to tell. And he had to try that new tune of his on the flute. Might be worth the risk of a beating. What the hell. The young traveller reached a decision and started collecting his things. Then he started moving across the grassy plains towards Rorikstead.