Two days had passed, and the army finally ground to a halt. The men set up their makeshift camp near the edge of a sparse forest. Alpheo stood at the edge of the road, his gaze sweeping over the landscape, his lips pressed into a thin line. His face looked as though he had just bitten into a sour lemon, his usual confident demeanor clouded with dissatisfaction.
Clio, ever perceptive, approached him from the side, brow furrowed slightly in concern. "What's the matter?" he asked, tilting his head, his voice calm yet curious.
Alpheo exhaled through his nose, his eyes narrowing at the thin forest line. "I was hoping for the forest to be a bit higher from the road. And... well, more filled with trees," he said, his tone carrying a hint of frustration as he gestured toward the scattered trees barely providing cover or strategic advantage.
Never trust a map given to you...,he thought as he exhaled
