Under the quiet veil of night, Lauren and Ashen sat close to their campfire. The soft crackling of burning twigs and dry wood broke the stillness of the forest. Around them lay gathered piles of dry branches, twigs, and a modest collection of fruits they had foraged earlier. From the river nearby, they had caught a few fish, their silver scales still glinting faintly in the firelight.
Ashen had taken a precaution earlier; he had scattered some fresh horned bear feces around their hunting ground. The pungent smell acted as a natural deterrent, keeping the more dangerous wild beasts at bay. It was a small but vital advantage in the dangerous Verdant Deathwood.
Lauren swatted at the air irritably. "These mosquitoes and flies keep annoying me," he complained with a slight frown.
