Dawn.
The elf-child rubs the sleep from her eyes. The glare of the morning sun does little to warm the earth, but at least the snowing has stopped. She props herself up on an elbow and glances around. The others are already up and packing so she sweeps the snow from her covers and rises to join them. She quickly folds her blankets and ties them to her pack. She considers a handful of oats for breakfast, but decides against it. Her hunger will come after walking, not before.
They travel west, their backs to the morning sun. Opal says it's best to have their shadows ahead of them in the morning when they are most alert. Bandits will see them coming by the approaching shadows before they see the travelers. Though even bandits would be welcome in this desolate terrain. They've seen no others in near a fortnight. No other signs of life at all. She trusts in Opal. After all, Opal has been places that young T'yar hadn't even heard of. Places you can only get by ship, or sherpa, or magic. Opal will guide them to Waterdeep. T'yar has no doubts.
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