Forty days.

He had been in this hell hole for exactly forty days. Hiding in the crevices, eating crumbs of dirt from the ground. Disguising as a beggar and asking for crumbs on the street. His golden blonde hair was turning a grumpy shade of brown and Harris could not remember when last a comb touched his beard.

This was what it was really like in the land of the rogues. This was the reason people dreaded this place, this was why the outlands was every wolf's worst nightmare. It was a place where the strong ate the weak and picked their teeth with their bones. It was a place...