Although there were no living creatures in sight, Motan believed that the giant dragon, who could speak into his ear from across the void, would be able to hear him.
Indeed, as he closed his notebook with some disappointment, a deep and resonant voice rang out again, "I am encamped not far south of you with the orcs. Would you like to come over for a chat?"
But Motan didn't move. He simply stared at the sky, lost in thought.
"Many people react the same way as you when they first arrive here, but overthinking can only add to worries,"
Femigel's gentle voice echoed in Motan's ears; he felt a certain fondness toward this modest and upright half-dragon.
However...
"I am actually a bit troubled," said Motan, scratching his head sheepishly, "Could you tell me where the south is?"
Femigel: "..."
Five minutes later
Motan, who had repeatedly assured the giant dragon that he was not messing with him, finally reached a small encampment under the dragon's guidance.
