Chapter 81: Gloominess

Evening draped over the sky in deepening hues, the last traces of daylight bleeding like a whisper into the horizon's smudged ink on damp parchment. The air had shifted, taking on that subtle, heavy chill that came with the settling dusk. Shadows stretched longer, creeping beneath the towering trees like silent stalkers, and the dim glow of scattered campfires flickered against the encroaching dark.

The loose camp for Wanderers stood ahead... less of a structured outpost and more of a scattered congregation of the weary. Newly Makeshift tents sagged under their own weight, hastily assembled shelters leaning against tree trunks or sprawled unevenly across the damp earth. The scent of charred wood, damp soil, and unwashed bodies lingered in the air, mingling with the distant murmurs of returning Wanderers.

Celia, Jess, and I made our way through the uneven ground, weaving past scattered groups of resting figures and hushed conversations.