After another full day in the village, Dean led the weary group, their yawns echoing through the air. Carl, still half-asleep, couldn't help but voice his confusion, scratching his behind while attempting to stifle a yawn.
"Yawn... Why on earth do we have to leave so early?" Carl grumbled, his words muffled as he covered his mouth.
Dean, mounted on his trusty steed with Lady Aethelwyn gracefully perched behind him, couldn't help but smile at Carl's question. He ducked down instinctively as a shoe flew past him, narrowly missing his head.
"Well, there's no particular reason, my friend," Dean replied, his voice carrying a hint of mischief. "I simply adore the scent of the early morning."
Carl's frustration was palpable as he retorted, "If that's the case, why didn't you let us get a bit more sleep? You knew we stayed up late last night."
