It was rare that Dovev left his Whispering Wood for anything, let alone something as frivolous as a marketplace. After all, he regularly sung the praises of relying on the land, keeping oneself alive without the need for trading and without leading a life in which one has few-to-no skills. This rare opportunity was afforded by his son Nadav's growth into adulthood and a surprising willingness to look over the forest while Dovev was away. It was that series of events that led the large brown stallion lumbering from his home, body strapped with rolls of dried meat he was hoping to trade for tools that were easier bought than made.
The journey was long, laborious, and quiet, but Dovev didn't mind. There were many areas that he passed that were quite beautiful, nothing that he would have seen staying secluded in the mountains where he made his home. A towering waterfall within the first few miles off his territory, the crashing of the waves against the rocks drowning out even his thoughts. Rolling hills covered in Indian paintbrush, like a soft red blanket consuming the landscape. The first night, he slept in a grove of clovers within a small stand of trees. Today, he'd only made a few miles difference, yet the landscape was already changing, smoothing out from his mountainous home region and making the stallion feel a bit homesick. He was already quite far into the trip, however; it would take him just over two days to make it to the marketplace, where he would stay the week before making the journey back.
