This is not a story of joy.
Neither is it one of happiness, or of light.
This is a story of pursuit. Of weakness and sorrow and of dread...
As the dim sun vanished beneath the grey clouds in a lackluster display of fading colors, Nero felt the warmth of a fire wash over him.
He looked up subtly. With Aisha's help, Geor was building them a fire.
He huffed and rubbed his palms together. Even with his resistance, he could already feel the chill. And the worst of it was yet to come, filling him with quiet dread.
He had known the night would be anything but easy to get through. But this...
Things were starting to seem bleak.
He sighed deeply.
To take his mind of of things, Nero decided to take his mind of of things.
In his free time, Nero enjoyed reading. Besides the books, scrolls and journals he had found in that strange settlement of the Elkerlings, he truly hadn't found anything to lose himself in.
