The day felt as if it moved on languidly, taking its time to draw out the hours, making every tiny moment last as long as possible.  Ryoma shifted his legs, moving one from underneath him to where it rested in front of him.  He lifted his hand up and brushed his mouth with the tips of his claws, something he often did when deep in thought.

Animals outside of his cave called to one another, his ear flicked as he listened intently to the outside world.  Perhaps today he would travel to a village and purchase some goods, or simply go for a stroll.  His family left him a fair amount of money he spent sparingly; though he would occasionally indulge and spend a hefty amount.  Ryoma regained the money he spent by selling hides he did not need, or books he had read multiple times.

​

That's it.  Ryoma decided.  Reaching over he grabbed warm wolf skins and placed them onto his shoulder.  He got up with a grunt, leaning on his knee to help him up he walked outside of his cave, taking a deep breath and admiring the scenery.  Glancing behind him to his fire put, various hides and skins, and a few other stray materials.  Stepping forward, he ignored them and set off down the mountain.

​

Ryoma wandered the land, visiting places he had not gone before.  Venturing farther than he dared to before.  'What was he on a quest for?' one might ask.  A simple answer; knowledge.  For what?  He did not know himself.  Ryoma would find out what it was once he arrived at his destination.  He planned to go wherever fate led him.

He saw many wonders.  Great waterfalls, blooming cherry blossoms, animals he had not seen around his cave, intricate jewelry, and a broad variety of other Kalons.  Ranging from kind to rude, young to old, poor to rich.  Often the old and poor were kind, and the young and rich rude.  However, everyone he had met was unique in their own way.  A young rich Kalon had bashfully given him some yen, for which he was thankful.

​

Ryoma had a feeling in his gut that he was approaching the journey's end, and pushed on, determined to find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

​

​

Pausing in his stride, Ryoma leaned against a tree.  Surely the next town would be nearby.  He could hear a stream, villages are always built by water.  It shouldn't be too far, Ryoma had told himself countless times.  Numerous times he had grown tired and flew, it would be nice until his wings grew tired. Ryoma swapped between flying and walking, but now both his wings and feet were sore.  Eventually he would have to stop and rest.  Throughout his journey he had grown accustomed to either sleeping in a bed in an inn, or outside.  He much preferred sleeping indoors at the moment.

​

After what had felt like hours had passed, Ryoma had finally discovered a tiny village snuggled up cozily  against the base of a mountain.  Sluggishly, he walked down the hill and made his way toward his new destination.  Chances are, there would not be any inns, he would have to rely on the kindness of a stranger to allow him to sleep in their home.  It was a small village, from what he's experienced thus far those from a tiny village seem to be much more relaxed around travelers.

He was only a couple of feet away from the first building.  Various fruit trees and other plant life was planted all around the place, and a dirt road led into the village and dispersed into different pathways as he continued on.  A few kits ran throughout the town, laughing and giggling.  Ryoma smiled to himself, and pressed on.  From what he could see, there were no inns or taverns for him to rest for the night in.

​

"Greetings, traveler!"  said a voice behind him.  Ryoma turned to face a female Kalon standing before him.

​

He lightly bowed.  "Hello."

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"Wonderful day, isn't it?  Though it will get cold at night."

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Ryoma nodded.  "It would.  Hopefully by then I would have a place to stay."  He mused.

​

The female Kalon laughed.  "Yes, hopefully!  You may stay at my place for the time being, if you'd like.  Though you'd have to work while there."

​

He blinked.  "Thank you.  My name is Ryoma, and yours is. . . ?"

​

"Isabelle.  Come, come, let me show you my house."  Isabelle grabbed his hand and led him to her house.  It was, like the others, a small cottage with a porch.  Though not all houses had a porch.   Opening the door, Isabelle stepped inside.  "I have some bread baking, feel free to have some if you're hungry."

​

Ryoma looked around the room.  A fire was warming the room, a single table was pushed against the wall with two chairs.  A stairway led to what he presumed was the basement or cellar.

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"Again, I cannot thank you enough.  I will work my debt off for as long as necessary."

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Isabelle smiled.  "Oh, please.  It wouldn't be that long."

​

Truth be told, Ryoma wouldn't mind how long it took.  He felt at home, but halfway there.  Maybe his journey is close to its end?