At dawn, the forest around them stirs with the gentle awakening of birdsong. Elara stands at the edge of the clearing, her eyes tracing the path that unfolds like a ribbon ahead. The morning air is crisp and carries the scent of damp earth and blooming wildflowers, a reminder of the potential of the new day. She feels the weight and promise of the journey, a mixture of expectation and uncertainty. Lyra, already awake and tending to the remains of the campfire, catches Elara's thoughtful gaze. "There's a village not far from here," Lyra mentions, their voices a soft murmur against the hum of the forest. "We could gather supplies and perhaps learn more about the path ahead." Elara considers the suggestion, her thoughts turning to the dwindling contents of their backpacks. The practical aspects of travel often require more than just determination and camaraderie; they need sustenance, both physical and informational. She shakes her head slowly, turning to her companions who are waking from their rest. Thorbek rubs his eyes to shake off the sleepiness, his beard bristling with morning dew. "A sensible measure," he grumbles, ever pragmatic. "We could use fresh bread and a proper map." Pippin, ever enthusiastic, stands up. "And perhaps some stories from the locals," he adds, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of new tales. "I've heard these parts are rich in legends."
Pippin, ever enthusiastic, stands up. "And perhaps some stories from the locals," he adds, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of new tales. "I've heard these parts are rich in legends." Groth, silent but attentive, gathers his equipment with a nod of agreement. The idea of replenishing their supplies and acquiring knowledge appeals to him. The group soon reaches a consensus and, with a tacit understanding, they prepare to make the detour, the village their first destination before continuing their search.