Avery's POV
My gaze drifted across the somber scene before me, taking in the harsh reality of the village's struggles. The infirmary was a pitiful sight—makeshift tents barely held together, their fabric worn and torn from exposure to the elements.
The cold, unforgiving air carried the scent of herbs and medicine, mingling with the faint metallic tang of blood. Injured men and women huddled under threadbare blankets, their faces pale and exhausted. Some whispered in hushed tones, while others simply lay there, their eyes dull with pain and fatigue.
Beyond the infirmary, the rest of the village wasn't faring much better. People moved sluggishly, weighed down by hardship, their clothing frayed and patched over too many times.