Early the next morning, mist still clung thick to the bare branches along the stony path. The steady rhythm of hooves blended with footsteps echoing across the low hills. Karl sat quietly in his saddle, eyes alert to every small shift in the landscape. The cold air didn't make him shiver, but the prolonged silence had begun to weigh on the group.
Sir Cedric, leading the way, suddenly stopped at a fork in the road. "According to the map, this path will take us to the village that woman mentioned," he said, turning to his companions.
Molvar, leaping off his horse with a loud yawn, grinned, "Let's hope they've got better food than that dried junk you made me eat yesterday."
"If your brain worked as hard as your stomach, peace might've come already," Karl replied with a smirk.
