He reached the edge of the plains as he reached the brink of his mind.  He tried not to, but as he began into the rolling valley he could not help but wonder if his recent acts were justified.  Certainly the transgressions of the Entrusts were enough to warrant halting their influence, but he was no lawmaker. Or lawenforcer for that matter.  The preceeding day and night were difficult for him to completely fathom, and pangs for his father came rushing back into his system.  He suppressed them back into his choked up throat, and wiped away the few tears that had formed.  He realized he hadn't slept for a full day and night.  He thought about what he had with him. Ten days of food, 31 arrows, a bow, his weapons, a sling for hunting, and a map of the greater Plains region.  He thought of the meggun he was riding, and how it at least deserved freedom after a life serving the Entrusts. He thought of many things, all of which he only considered distractions from his main thought. How alone he had become.
He spent a lot of time removing his supplies from the meggun.  He wanted her to understand that this saddle was the last one she would have to support, and that these supplies were no longer her responsibility.  It has never been a worry releasing a meggun back into the wild.  There are few creatures faster, and none of those more powerful than the beast, so rarely would it be in any actual danger.  Calhoon also knew that megguns travelled together, but often sought out new packs or groups to hunt and travel with.  He took his supplies in the saddle over his shoulder, and walked alongside the cat for many hours.  He did not wish to send it off until it was ready.  When the suns had reached their peaks on the day they reached the edges of a Bulsa Tree they had seen two hours before.  The shade of the tree and Calhoon's exhaustion made him feel as if he were swimming.  The meggun gawked at the mans silly nature, squirming around under the tree.  It stood on its hind legs to reach a fruit hanging low on the Bulsa and bit into the fruit over Calhoon, leaking juice onto his face.  Calhoon sprang up laughing, and pushed the meggun away.  The meggun turned back and relinquished the Bulsab for Calhoon to enjoy.  When the juice was all gone he tossed it back at the cat, who promptly devoured it.  For a while the two sat under the Bulsa tree, waiting out the hottest part of the day, occasionally picking fruit, taking turns climbing up the tree.  Calhoon was unsure if a meggun could be one, but he did not want to deny his very first friend.  No other time in his life had he felt this way about anyone, even an animal, and especially a person. 
For a moment, Corna dissipatted and the heat faded and twenty-five years culminated into one moment.  Calhoon had never had a chance to stop and enjoy the shade with a friend, and for this he was grateful.  Tears of every emotion began to pour from inside, and for this he was grateful.  He stood, still crying, and walked out from under the cover of the Bulsa tree.  As his emotions relinquished control to his composure, the warmth from Corna dried his face and eyes.  He looked back and his friend was just under the shade of the tree, a few yards behind him.  They both knew it was time to move again, but they had no good reason why, other than restlessness.  Calhoon decided that finding a bed would be for the best.  He had not prepared for camping, but had wasted much travel time under the Bulsa, so it would most likely be dark before he reached anywhere civilized.  As he quietly pondered the night, the meggun pushed him from behind with its head.  When he turned, the meggun was holding the saddle in its mouth.  Calhoon understood, and wasted no more time.  He saddled her, and they made haste towards the middle of the Plains.  Now that she had offered a ride he did not feel as bad as earlier, and he would be able to make it to Byyan'Carr before the Tarnath day was through.  As he rode, he did not feel like a man on a mount.  He felt as if they were a single proud entity, acting together as one.
They had less then an hour of daylight left when Byyan'Carr came into view.  At the top of on of the rolling hills, Calhoon dismounted from his new comrade, nuzzled his warm face, and turned to face the city.  They sat there for a moment, both in awe of the bright lights and the booming echoes that filled the plains with color and excitement.  They looked to one another, wishing farewell with a silent gaze and both set off in their own direction, but both to animals they did not know and had not yet been accepted by.  It was a scary thought, but fear only ever gets in the way of what one truly yearns for.

Calhoon spent the entirety of the next week in Byyan'Carr.  He had nowhere to be, and did not wish to travel for he knew anywhere he got to would be same, slightly better or slightly worse.  In his time he had gathered a few things.  First, and most splendidly, word had made it to Byyan'Carr that the mysterious police group ,The Entrusts, had seemingly vanished.  None knew whether they were hiding or if they had simply left the area, but people had noticed.  Not a single person could have linked Calhoon to the organization or, even if it was discovered, the mass murder.  However, the world had noticed something of good he did, not for their own personal gain, and not for any reason besides the fact that a change had occurred.  This was the man he knew he was, and he was proud of himself for all he had made it through. 
His past aside, he quickly learned a thing or two about how to truly live.  Dravus had taught him to be cold, selfish, and bitter.  People are simply a product of their environment, and Byyan'Carr was a healthy environment.  The energy did not yield with Corna and Tarna, and well into each night Calhoon found himself dancing with strangers, and singing with new friends.  On the last day of this weeks festival, a beautiful young woman he was dancing with leaned in and stole a kiss at the end of one song.  He stole a much better kiss back.  They left the center ring of town, where all the festivities branched from, and she led him through the night market of Byyan.  The thick smoke from Ghiel pipes (Encyclopedia Entry: Delete after reading) clouded the market place.  He asked her what they were smoking.
"Ghielrout and Bulsa leaves. Ghielrout is a strong medicine in every other part of Orphan, but here it's so much more.  We grow the plants for the festivals, and when you mix it with Bulsa you have the energy of TEN festivals coarsing through you! Do you want to try some?"
"I suppose. I'm not sick though, why would I need medicine."
"You're right, you're really not from around here. You clever outsiders always surprise me. You know so much, yet so little."
"I wouldn't say I'm-"
"Don't worry, come on. I'll teach you a thing or two about yourself." She led him down the next alleyway, let go of his hand and began to run.
"Keeeeeeeep uuup!" she teased.
They ran through the alleys, twisting and turning down what seemed to Calhoon as the same corridors. They stopped at a home he (added) did not recognize from his walks through town in the week .  She unlocked a large red door, and they slipped inside.  She lit the hanging candles, and a bed was revealed in the middle of the one room home.  Opposite the door was a fireplace and a kettle over it.  A table to the right with two chairs and to the left cabinets and dressers for storage.  The home would have been otherwise dreary if not for the ellaborate decoration all around it.  Plants and trees from all across the plains, colorful representations of animals or festivals or nothing at all but color.  They made Calhoon feel many things.  He was never one for art, but he admired this womans greatly.  As she set out and prepared a pipe, he questioned her.
"So, what exactly is your name? I'm sorry I have not asked yet."
"What good are names? They just another silly fact to know about a person, so don't worry, I'm not offended. I'm Seravance. Seravance Linnsey."
"Interesting."
"Why is that interesting?"
"Are you of any relation to the great Orphan warrior Kregg Linnsey?"
"No. Can't say I've never heard of him."
"Fair enough, just though I'd ask. I'm Calhoon Fortiss."
"What a nice name."

By this time the pipe was ready.