He was beyond the border now, he knew this because of how many times he had walked the limits of their lands with one of the patrols. He wasn't soldier material. If he had on regret in life, that was it. He wished he could be a fighter like his father, or a thinker like his mother come to that. Everyone had their own talents, his father said, not everyone could be a warrior or a tactician. Some people were meant for other things. Erasmus liked to think that he was made for songs and stories. He didn't know as many big words as a lot of people, but those he did know he could string together in a way that sounded pretty.
People liked his stories, they came and listened to him. He told the old legends, sang the old songs, and told tales of the greatness of their herd. He couldn't serve like many people could but what he could do he did do, to the best of his ability.
Today however he was having a little break, and a mini adventure. He had hardly left the territories since returning from Shrilal as a small colt, he felt it was about time he saw the outside world again... Oddly enough this bit of Yisi looked pretty much exactly like the bits of Yisi they controlled. He supposed he should have expected that, he had expected that actually, but somehow it still seemed odd that the outlands were just like their lands. It was the people that made a difference he supposed, not the place.
