For all beasts, life has its ups and downs. It has its high points, and its low points. There are times when everything is clear, and times when the path of life is overgrown and hidden. For Alastor Eriel, all these moments in life depended on how close he was to finding his sworn enemy, Lysistra. Right now, he was in a hazy part of his life. The trail had grown cold, at least for the time being. It wasn't a surprise really, information on a small time bandit like Lysistra was rare, and he hadn't seen her for years. Not since the faithful day when his home had burned and his parents had died. But every time he lost the trail, he'd find it again, sooner or later.
With that in mind, Alastor was traveling to the place where he had last heard of Lysistra, a small village in western Mossflower. He was not guaranteed success by any means, but it was the best chance he had of regaining his trail and finding the lucrative pine marten. Preoccupied in thoughts of revenge, Alastor sat on the stump of a long dead tree by the narrow path. He needed a brief rest now and then, having traveled all day. The stoat looked up at the grey sky, which matched his internal mood closer than he liked. It wasn’t raining yet, but you didn’t need to be a genius to know it was coming. The wind had picked up a little, and the air had cooled.
Alastor stood up to begin his journey again, when he heard a faint sound behind him on the path. He was not particularly worried, but he didn’t trust anybeast behind him. The stoat turned to face the newcomer with a dark stare, leaving the first word to them.
(OOC: Whoever posts next can be the newcomer, than the others can jump in in different ways!)