The sun had begun its slow retreat beyond the jagged silhouettes of the western hills, painting the sky in long strokes of dusky crimson and deepening gold. Once dry and restless through the earlier part of the day, the wind had quieted to a gentle breeze, brushing over the tall grass and rustling the half-barren trees that dotted the landscape. Evening was fast approaching, and with it, the inevitability of rest.
Commander Valerie called for a halt, raising her hand atop her tiger mount. The group had covered good ground since leaving Govean that morning, and while they could have pushed further, the light was dimming fast, and no experienced traveller ever trusted the dusk to be generous in the wilderness. So, they made camp.
