[Soft murmurs of the camp]
A few hours had passed, allowing the party to rest and recover from their grueling battle. The ambient sounds of the Hakvall refugee camp filled the air, a constant reminder of the fragile safety they had fought so hard to protect. The steady hum of distant conversations, the soft rustle of tent fabric, and the occasional clatter of pots and pans created a backdrop of normalcy in their otherwise turbulent existence.
Rhox removed her light long coat, the fabric slightly singed and dirtied from the recent skirmish. She proceeded to clean it methodically, her fingers moving with a practiced precision.
"You just can't avoid getting your gear dirty during these situations," Rhox sighed, her voice laced with a hint of exasperation as she diligently cleaned her coat. Her hands moved methodically, scrubbing away the stubborn blood of the hive bugs they had fought earlier, remnants of the fierce battle still clinging to the fabric.
