The scent of brimstone had been strong within the central plains south of the High Roads, towards Forwin. The skies had been grey for weeks, and the rain it brought black as ink.
Reina took in the sight. Nestled on Kirr's head in wolf form while Kuu rested on top of her head, curled up in a ball as she slept day and night, pulling mana from the air to feed its needs. The rain hadn't stopped for nearly two weeks, turning the grass grey and limp. Lakes that once shone a vibrance seemed no more than great pits of thick tarr.
Goulish moans seemed to embody the night, bringing about strange wails of wraiths prowling the darkness.
"It's getting worse," Ren said, narrowing her eyes. She frowned, feeling her recovery of weary muscles underway. "How much longer until we arrive in Forwin?"
"A week…" Jorm said.
