As the small party left the town behind and ventured north along the rutted road, Straw set a relatively easy pace. Although he was rather tall and lean, one might get the impression that he was not often inclined to hurry. His age was hard to judge, but definitely a few strands of gray could be picked out among his messy blonde hair that appeared long overdue for a trimming.

The road led almost straight north as it passed through mostly open fields where farmers tended their fields; using horses and oxen to turn up the dirt, with children following behind to cast the seed. Not far in the distance, the open fields ended and the road plunged into the forest. 

"Ain't much of a cook myself," Straw admitted. " 'Less you count charring a rabbit over a stick." But he looked pleased that Khoran had volunteered for the duty.