Hunting

He stood looking out over the pristine mountain lake. The moon was just rising and the stars were bright. The forest was relatively quiet, but for the sound of an owl hunting its prey in a nearby meadow. Tirian closed his eyes and allowed the scene to burn into his mind. How he loved the night, the feel of the air upon his face, the sensation of life all around him. He found that it calmed his soul, even as the day hardened his life.

It would be easy to complain, easy to be bitter, he knew. Life had not treated him fairly. But to what had he to honestly compare this hardship? This was all he had ever known. He lived as his father had taught him, gone now these twelve years. Would he, Tirian, also face an early demise because of the course of his life? He pushed the thought aside. The moon was shining, and glittering on the surface of the mirror that had been delved in this secluded valley on the edge of the Ninth Kingdom.

Yes, this would be a good place to settle in for a while. He opened his eyes, scanning the landscape that swept below him, watching the road that he had traveled from the Seventh Kingdom. Perhaps he could find some news . . . it had been years since he had set foot in the Ninth; his father had been with him then. He had told him something of the Houses in the Ninth, but his knowledge was limited, as he, like Tirian, had spent the better part of his life in the wild. It was a hope, nonetheless . . . Yes, perhaps there would be news . . .

Suddenly alert, watching the motion on the road, he found what he feared and what he hoped. He called to his horse and was amount and down the hill in a moment, riding north like the wind, in pursuit of the figure on the highway . . .