Markos turned his attention from Vladimars to Sintija. A stark contrast in dress between the travelers - Vladimars was clad in all black layers with bear fur keeping him warm. While Sintija was barely dressed by Markos's standards - her stomach exposed while her torso was covered by a tight half sleeved high collar top with long gloves and a half white leather cuirass. Her breeches were white leather with a belt full of pouches and long boots. "What do you know about this part of the Wastes?"
Sintija stared into the distance, her eyes wide and mouth tight in a frown. A frigid wind rattled through the grave yard, sending spirals of frost across the barren landscape. Overhead a vulture circled, its shadow loomed over them. "This place is… wrong." She shivered, pulling her white cloak uncharacteristically tighter around herself.
