Nightfall, Broken Courtyard, kilometers from the Scorchpaths Outskirts.
The fire crackled low in the center of a broken courtyard. Its light cast long shadows over crumbling walls and wild overgrowth.
Moonlight filtered through the jagged remains of glass towers, painting the world in pale silver.
59 days in the journey, the group was closer than ever before.
Their journey to Africa was still just in its beginning phase, and yet it felt like they already traveled around the world.
Afterall, with no convenient vehicles and jets to take one around a Behemorph-infested world, transportation was a luxury in the Echoterra age.
Clayton sat with his back to a half-toppled statue, legs stretched toward the warmth. The air carried the scent of scorched moss and old metal, but here, in this moment, there was peace.
After another hectic day of traveling through the Behemorph-infested wild, together at night, this group could finally wind down.
