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[center][b]Kalar Splint, Chief Ranger of Galuntrung Keep.[/b][/center]

[center][b]Traveling east along the Geshmere Road. 12 miles east of Merandin.[/b][/center]

The cracked and worn paving slabs of the Geshmere Road had given way to surface water and mud. Leather boots squelched in the resulting quagmire, and each hundred yards became harder than the last as the filth stuck to the rangers' feet. Their pace slowed little however; forest fighters were more than experienced in off-road travel, and soiled slabs were a plus if nothing else.  

Kalar led his men from the front, a tall figure of olive drab and shadows. A longbow, strung from end to end by horsehair, shifted uneasily in his right hand. His pace was graceful, not quite Elven, but his limbs flowed with efficiency and purpose. If he didn't have to keep waiting for his men to catch up, though this wasn't often, he'd arrive at Okly that much quicker. 

If Liara didn't come running back the other way first, yelling proclamations of hellfire and imminent ambush.

And as the Galuntrung Storm continued it wrath, having picked up pace from the earlier lull, the group's visibility vanished beneath sheets of rain and a rising fog. Kalar's forced march had become too much of a gamble, and he was convinced by his own gut feelings to switch to a more cautious mode of travel. 

Coming to a sudden halt, he turned to his men - but a flash of a silhouette out on the road caught his attention - and he looked back. Through the rain was a woman, her feminine and fragile form obvious despite the loss of visibility. Kalar first thought it was Liara, but something didn't feel quite right. 

Not twenty feet away, this stranger abruptly halted, and looked back at the rangers. Bows were strung and swords drawn as Kalar's men started to scatter for cover, many of them foolishly convinced that the new arrival was potentially a fire breathing beast from the depths of the earth. 

Kalar wasn't convinced though; he saw the houndish ears, and the tail. He'd heard tell of Wolf People, and he knew that immolating caravans was not one of their talents. He quickly motioned his men to stand down, but many still held their caution behind the strings of their bows. 

"Dangerous for a Wolf Girl to be traveling the road by herself. Identify yourself, stranger, and do not dally. We've little time for games," Kalar yelled through the rain and the rising fog. His bow still held at his side, and his sword still in its sheath. Battle was obviously not an outcome he was expecting, even though his men looked ready to take on a whole regiment of children's fiction.