His mouth twitched back, less a smile than the revelation of a crease created by those past. Owen kept mainly to the plains, when he ventured out from the village proper; he'd only reached the northernmost border recently, and heard of the matching beach to the south.
"When you're on foot, anything you can't cross in a day seems big. North or south, if you don't stop too much--four days out from the village you get beaches? No one's gone very far east or west, too many mountains and rivers to get over."
What they needed were boats, sturdy enough for the rivers and the shallow waters of their border. Or a point high enough to see if there was an ocean on every horizon.
"I was trying to figure out the local horses," he admitted, "before those things came down off the mountain. Well." He had another crease for concession, set between his brows. "I call them horses, but they've got big racks of antlers and patches of scales. If we can't tame them we might just have to find out how they taste."
no subject
"When you're on foot, anything you can't cross in a day seems big. North or south, if you don't stop too much--four days out from the village you get beaches? No one's gone very far east or west, too many mountains and rivers to get over."
What they needed were boats, sturdy enough for the rivers and the shallow waters of their border. Or a point high enough to see if there was an ocean on every horizon.
"I was trying to figure out the local horses," he admitted, "before those things came down off the mountain. Well." He had another crease for concession, set between his brows. "I call them horses, but they've got big racks of antlers and patches of scales. If we can't tame them we might just have to find out how they taste."