Gentle were the skies as the clouds rolled and slide soothingly. It grew calmness and tranquility, showering it all over the perilous land of Skilis. Most especially, the territory of the nagas. The day seemed tranquil and joyous but the departure of their dear guests and friends left one to sigh sullenly.
"Moulin!"
The youth who was dazedly staring at the teleportation portal, the thing that would return him and the others to Thundralln, watched as it was about to be activated. He knew well who the voice that called him belonged to. And with a crease between his brows, he turned around and faced the half-human creature who approached him. Within the naga's hands was a tiny brown bag made from the animal fur Seryu hunted himself. He tried to make it as pleasant as possible but unfortunately, he wasn't very good with sewing.
"Hello, Seryu..." Moulin faintly smiled at his friend.
