"Nuts and grain, pah!"
The dark-skinned woman stands and tosses her dinner into the campfire. Without another word she turns her back to the flames and gazes out into the distance. She pays no attention to the pangs in her belly, nor her companions, nor the buildup of snow accumulating on her shoulders...
At the campfire, Glyn Elderchyld stares silently at his half eaten loaf of rye. For nine days the trio has been without meat, and he too feels the pangs of hunger from the food rations. Moods are bleak, even for the optimistic young man from Saerloon. He takes one last bite of bread, then tucks it back into his pack. His blond hair ruffles in the breeze, so he pulls his collar closed and adds another branch to the embers. He glances briefly at the dark girl, then at the elfling to his left, and finally back to the fire, where he lets his mind wander...
Closing her tome, the elf-child covers a yawn and pulls another blanket over her shoulders. She looks around at her... friends? companions? elders? ...she wasn't quite sure what to call this pair that she met less than a month ago, but she feels safe in their presence. As her eyes fall on each, she reflects on the weeks past. She trusts these strangers with her life. After all Opal shares her blankets, and Glyn bandaged her ankle. They may go their separate ways when they finally reach a city, but until then they need each other...
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