After dinner, the night settled deep over the plains. The air had cooled, and the only light came from the flicker of torches and the faint, glowing eyes of the rock tortoise resting in the distance.
Luciel stretched, feeling the fatigue of the day in his shoulders. "Let's go," he said. "We'll finish up at the camp tonight."
Mino hesitated, clutching her torch close. The camp, which only that morning had been filled with noise and life, was now shrouded in silence. Empty tents and broken fences loomed in the dark like hollow skeletons.
"Do we have to go now?" she asked quietly, glancing toward the black stretch of ground where the old camp waited.
Luciel smiled faintly. "The sooner we set things up, the less work we'll have tomorrow." He handed her another torch. "You take that side. I'll take this one. We'll meet in the middle."
Mino's grip tightened around the wooden handle. "O-okay," she said, trying to sound brave.
Luciel added, "I'll have the skink follow you."
