Gilda's grumble lingered in the air, the sound of a warrior resigned to absurdity. They weren't an adventuring party anymore—they were a napping party.
It was, she had to admit, a ridiculous way to run a rescue mission. With Pip snoring over one shoulder, her axe on the other, and FaeLina perched nervously on her pauldron, muttering about how to properly document "victory via unscheduled nap" in an official report, Gilda led the team onward.
Zazu cast one last, thoughtful look back at the silent owl guardians, but Gilda refused to look back. She just marched deeper into the woods.
