Gana Continent, Sun Step Mountain Range.
As the last raindrop fell from the edge of the sky, the murky sky finally cleared, and the gales that howled for seven whole days finally ceased.
The setting sun cast its light on the peaks of the Sun Step Mountain Range, large patches of cracked rock reflecting golden-red gleams, as if nothing had occurred—
But the people of the Wind Roar Tribe all knew that those frantic days and nights couldn't have been meaningless.
The Prophet Uyana of the Tide Clan stood at the edge of the cliff, her eyes closed, nostrils flaring as she took a deep breath.
"I smell a wider sea," she murmured.
The cloak behind her swayed gently in the wind, her eyelids with embedded sea-blue scale patterns slowly opened, gazing at the far North.
"If you smell it, then hurry and leave," Urga grumbled impatiently, biting into a piece of dry and hard rat jerky, "We don't have much food left here, can't afford to feed your whole tribe."
