At the Water Healing Clan's Territory
Allen, Natasha, and Lilitu approached a wide, low-built bungalow. The air around them was tense—hot and rigid—not like their usual playful banter. Today, there was no room for jokes.
Natasha and Elara led the way, thoughts racing through their minds. They knew something was wrong with Allen. It wasn't just his silence—it was his very presence. Though still undeniably Allen, he had grown too quiet. Too still.
The arena they walked through felt like a freshly-born piece of nature. The air was warm and alive, like the gentle breath of the gods themselves. The grass was a lush, nutritional green, and not far ahead, a stream flowed peacefully past the front of the building.
And the trees—broad and tall—seemed to draw nourishment directly from the skies. They rose on both sides of the stream, their branches kissing above to form a living canopy.
