The fire burned low in the pit, casting a faint warm glow around the campsite. Ven moved closer to it and hugged her knees to her chest to ease her shivering. The air smelled of woods and smoke and the promise of rain come morning, thick with humidity and the sound of crickets.Ā
Beyond the fire pit, Ashlynne stirred in her sleep, rolling over in her bedroll to face away from the fire with a grumble. Further off, just on the edge of the fireās light, the arm of her other traveling companion, Gwerith, dangled limply from the fork in a birch tree, fingers twitching lightly with dreaming.
It had been at least two weeks since they first entered Ascalon. She wondered, frequently, if it would have been easier to double back to Divinityās Reach and simply take the Asura Gate to Ebonhawke as they had originally planned. But, she reminded herself, if they had never taken this route, they would never have met Gwerith, and half of the fun of their trip was in the journey, after all.
Thatās why they chose to take the long way, she thought. Not because she wanted to put off the task at hand.
She bumped her forehead against her knees, pushing her glasses farther up her nose, then stared into the fire again. Where would they go after Ebonhawke? It didnāt matter, particularly -- she would continue wandering, and the others would follow or go where they saw fit. Still, the thought that their ragtag band might break apart saddened her, just a little.
As she lay her head against her knees and stared into the coals, she thought of how it all began.