The Wolf, The Knight and the Mountain

The path up White Wolf Mountain was steep, almost vertical, so that Markus was climbing more than hiking. It was grueling work, and the weather wasn't helping: snow poured heavily from the sky, and it was freezing. Markus' black cloak offered him a little protection from the cold, but not much. The Wise Old Man had sent him here, to the Oracle, for information on his marked hand.

Markus had had this symbol on his hand for as long as he could remember. One of his earliest memories was the Orphanage worker, Mrs-something-or-other, freaking out because she couldn't wash it off his hand. Markus was six. She literally threw him out on the streets. He had turned to street thieving, which the mark on his hand helped him with.