"Drazha is right," you say. "There is little point preparing for battle if we are all to die afterward anyway. See that it is done."
"A wise decision," says Drazha with a bow, before leaving your tent to ensure that your orders are carried out.
You spend the next few hours waiting outside your tent, but any anxiety you have is unfounded. As the sun begins to dip below the horizon, the foraging party returns, their panniers full of fish, ground game, and small dark berries harvested from upland shrubs. It makes for a fairly sparse meal, but the knowledge that there is food to be had in the mountains marks the beginning of a growing sense of contentment among the tribe. There is little else you can do for your tribe today, and so, with a little reluctance, you seek your bed.
Wait for Morning