The morning progressed with quiet determination, the air crisp yet warming as the sun began its slow ascent over the horizon. Luke and Ilyrana followed the beaten line of the woodland path until it narrowed, dissolving into a wider openness where grass gave way to an uneven spread of stone and earth. Before them, rising not so dauntingly as the great mountains they had skirted days ago, stood a hill of rocky terrain. It wasn't tall enough to warrant dread, nor was it so gentle as to be overlooked. Its jagged slope promised a challenge, though not an impossible one.
Luke stopped, staring up at it while shifting the strap of his bag higher on his shoulder.
"Well… that looks inviting," he muttered, half in jest, half in resignation.
Ilyrana's sharp eyes traced the climb, noting the uneven ridges and scattered ledges that dotted the incline. Her expression was thoughtful, measured.
