The wind ruffled the leaves of bushes and trees. In one of such trees was Tilia.
She was watching as a group of soldiers sat around a campfire, eavesdropping on their conversation. They were drinking, and it certainly wasn't kid friendly stuff. The smell of alcohol assaulted her nose, but she remained still.
A conversation was as follows:
"There's no way that guy is still standing!"
"I'm telling you we have reports that he hasn't moved."
"Is that guy crazy? The only people who can go so long without rest are Third Stars and higher."
One of the soldiers took swig of their bottle, "Hah, it doesn't matter anyway. We gotta go push that guy around a bit so the offer is null."
"That armor seems kind of heavy."
"And we're five strong! If we can't push some suit of armor on an exhausted guy, then we can't call ourselves soldiers of the Orolin Guard."
"Heh, you don't deserve to be part of the guard."
"What you say?!"
