It had taken him over two days, but little Flik had finally made his way from Fangroot to Mossflower. His tiny satchel of foodstuffs was empty, and he was parched from the walk, having had to scrounge up water from streams along the way. For a few minutes he debated trading his satchel for a cool drink. He was headed towards a vendor when it struck him that such a trade might not benefit him on the trip back - he certainly couldn't carry two days of food in his hands!
He settled down on a big wooden bench outside the stores, swinging his feet as they couldn't touch the ground. His fingers were buried in the fur of his tail, absentmindedly straightening the hairs as if it were second nature to him. He stared off into the distance, struggling to put together a plan of action - now that he was here, he wanted to see the sights, perhaps find some other warriors like himself... Maybe there was a blacksmith he could visit and observe? Oh, or a leather working shop! But the threads of his plan weren't weaving themselves together, and soon he found himself struggling to remember each step.
Flik wasn't exactly the most brilliant of squirrels, and he lacked enough intelligence to understand... his lack of intelligence. A blessing and a curse. But he was strong and hardy, and his solo trip out of Fangroot had proved that. And he didn't aspire to be a scholar, which he could be thankful for - if he knew of his own mental limitations.
