The weary and exhausted group of villagers made camp near the tranquil and cold river, their spirits and bodies weighed down by the events of the day. The crackling of the fire provided a flickering light as they huddled together, their faces drawn and grim.
The things they witnessed, and the battles they fought weren't anything they were used to being normal villagers who used to work hard for their families, so this was an exhausting journey for them.
"We can't keep going like this," one villager murmured, his voice trembling with fear. "Without our leader, Garnt, we're as good as dead."
Most of the people shook their heads in agreement, while some showed anger as soon as they heard Garnt's name. Slowly, they started to lose their trust in him, which wasn't so surprising, since humans, no matter the era, always tend to forget the past quite easily.
