Out of the village, Cassander wants to urge his horse further, but they're both exhausted, having traveled the majority of the day. So instead, he tries to find a comfortable spot to make camp.
It's already dark so Cassander makes haste. With nothing more than a string, a piece of cloth, and some rocks, he constructs a makeshift shelter. It's enough for the night, Cassander has slept in worse.
His horse is tied to the tree, and it seems relatively calm for now, the mageknight assumes that it's safe. Safe enough. He makes the lead short, in case anything happens, the horse will startle and he'd be roused from his sleep.
For now, Cassander rests. Or at least tries. Rest does not come to him easily.
He's slept in many terrible places, beneath the howling sound of battle and death, in cramped, damp spaces shared with six other men. He's slept next to livestock, atop their hay. Cassander feels like he's been through it all.
