"Are you sure we are heading in the right direction? We've been walking for many hours without seeing a single glimpse of your territory!"
Ricky was complaining for the tenth time since they had crossed the twelve-hour mark of their journey. The group had moved out shortly after breakfast, fueled by a successful morning of clearing the fog from their own territory for good.
Based on Lanmar's initial estimates, they had expected to reach the Bulltors territory in less than six hours. Yet, they had now walked for more than double that time without arriving at their destination.
"Surely we are on the right track," Lanmar insisted, pointing vaguely toward the swirling white horizon. "This fog is quite tricky; it's designed to make you lose your sense of direction within the veil. But don't worry, we aren't running in circles. My internal compass is... Mostly functional…"
"Watch out!"
*Roar!*
