Back at the front lines,
Men matched staggards along the plains, dragging their feet across the floor to get a simple plate of food. They thanked me gratefully before retreating to dine alone. The camp happened to be a disaster in just a week of entering Black Wolf territory. Their attacks became more frequent and unexpected. Late in the night and during any time of the day. They waited with their eyes half open, barely getting any sleep, to rejuvenate even the least amount of strength. Some happened to be at their wit's end; others had crumbled under the fearful pressure. They were dwindling in number, and so was their spirit.
"She has been frequenting the front lines more often than not," Esme said, holding a basket while she stood beside Lara, standing guard. Lara gazed confusedly at the lady she spoke of in question. She couldn't think of an appropriate response to her unexpected question.
