Eccar exhaled another long sigh after the link with Erend faded, the sound heavy as the mist around the camp.
He sat with his back against a damp boulder. Its surface was slick and strangely alive with faint tendrils curling from its cracks even though aside from that, it looked like any other stone.
The wet ground soaked through his trousers, but he didn't care. His gaze lingered on the dim glow of their campfire a short distance away.
Lyrel and Caelthar sat across from one another by the flames with their quills scratching steadily over their books.
They never stopped recording, their parchment filled with notes of nearly everything that happened during the journey.
They made no attempt to hide their task of observing them, and Eccar and Krono did not care. He and Krono knew well enough that the Elves were here to document more than to aid because of the order from their king.
Still, it didn't matter, at least not yet.
