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Leandar felt terrible, his body was still wracked with scars from the confrontation in Fangroot. Baneberry's image was burned in his mind, the child and his Fangrooters had bested him in combat. A feline head hung low in the head that desert morning. Leandar decided go on a journey to Sunhedge. The people there were kinder and its proximity to Hallowmarl made the trip an agreeable decision. The wildcat stumbled upon Simon and Chale along the way.

"A bow," Leandar mused as he looked down at their make-shift roadside kiosk.

The weasel, Simon, was upon him in an instant. Offering price cuts, yammering about the quality of another potential purchase, and being a generally very persuasive salesman. By the end of their transaction, Leandar purchased a new bow, a book to help him improve his accuracy, and two health tonics. In return Leandar offered the two sundry items of interest he had come upon. The wildcat hurried along, making sure the weasel didn't have a chance to sway him on a last second purchase.

"This bow will become an extension of myself." Feline eyes focused on the still-dried blood on his fur. Veering from his trip to Sunhedge, the wildcat headed to Mossflower. After checking into the local inn, Leandar made his daily practice to make ten arrows and fire them all. This ritual went on for a week. On the seventh day, the wildcat notched an arrow, and sent it flying. The stone head found its way directly to the bullseye.

"I've taken the first step," Leandar exclaimed.