Hills came out to greet them with some gentle zephyor, and the sound of tramping on grass. The hues of dawn painted the landscape just as if the painter had used the night as a canvas. To the people of the Night Walkers the distance they have moved away from the Grove seems to always connect what they left behind with what is still to come.
It was done with much tenderness by a faceless woman who set Serakha down and removed the pouch from the satchel, holding the pouch delicately. The seeds lay in the palm of her left hand, and they emitted a dull luminescence that resonated to the throb of her pulse. Beside her, with the faint furrow of concentration on his face, Lucian looked at the horizon. Arden followed closely behind them, still with his sword belt on but his sword was not drawn.
"There," said Lucian pointing at a thin wisp of smoke in front of them. "The village. That must be it."
