Dawn broke gently over the Forgotten Atlanta Expanse, the horizon painted in subtle strokes of gold and lavender, slowly washing away the lingering shadows of the night.
Clayton rose early, slipping silently from the comfort of his makeshift quarters. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the fresh, slightly cool air that whispered through the verdant growth of his Rootsite.
He moved quietly through the enclave, his footsteps barely audible on the soft carpet of moss and vines.
Clayton felt strange.
This feeling… he struggled to get used to it.
It was already a while since he gained power to protect himself already, and yet, he still could not get used to the feeling of not being in mortal danger.
To his perception, he only spent like 10 days or so in Echoterra, but those few days defined his life. Literally, after all, history said he spent centuries there.
