The grass was lush and soft, laying on it felt like a plush wool mattress. Except for the small area where Bartlett and the others were, all around was a fog so dense it seemed unchanging, reminding the Barbarian of the Foggy Forest.
However, this was not a forest, there were no towering firs, no dangerous vines, and no dense shrubs. There was nothing here, just a grassy field with three people and a parrot standing dumbfoundedly, that's all.
"Felicity, where are we?" The bard curiously asked.
It was a good question, second only to "Who am I?" but better than "What am I doing?" Bartlett cautiously scanned his surroundings, fortunately finding no danger.
