He was on the trail, he knew that much and he would have his target within a day if he kept up his pace. And he knew he would. The damned slave had given him the runaround for three days straight and though Ki'adan had tried to be discreet enough to keep the slave ignorant of his pursuit, apparently he was smart enough to know better. Just great; the smart ones were always the worst.
But it wasn't enough to deter the slave hunter from pressing through the wilds, and pushing his men, to the edge of the Adelan border. Perhaps the slave thought if he could get out of the country, he was home free. As if the Duhjari rider was going to let him go that easily. However, the slave was pushing it awful close and the men that followed him were growing tired and reluctant to go further.
All the better, he thought. The last thing he needed were six other people to slow him down. And he alone ventured to the edge of Adela. Ki'adan paused when he reached the edge of the Draconi forest, where the grasses grew longer, and the wind blew chill. His dark eyes stared out toward the plains, faint memories floating on the winds and, with them, vanishing.
Ki'adan knew the risks he was taking in venturing here once more, though from this view the Plains seemed distant and empty, barren of little more than the wild animals that roamed it. A fox scurried out from underneath his horse, Bal'an, a white beast, powerful and strong with blood of those of the Duhjari line. There were many things Ki'adan had shed of his past, many things that had weighed him down and would do nothing more than hinder him from the freedom he so desperately clung to. But his horse was not one of them.
With little more delay, other than watching the pale sun fade into orange on the horizon below, Ki nudged his horse to slowly walk out through the grasses, and his rider, ever watchful.
