As the solemn night descended, the stars adorned the sky like blossoms in a celestial garden, casting their gentle glow on Arlo, Hilde, Owen, and Mattie. The stars twinkled like diamonds strewn across a velvet blanket, their light shimmering in the tranquil darkness.
They kindled a campfire on the crest of a sand dune, forming a makeshift encampment with two sturdy wagons and four robust bulls tethered to the wagon's wheels. The fire crackled and danced, casting long, flickering shadows that danced upon the sand.
The night was spent under the open sky, for each of the villages was isolated by mountains and deserts, and a vast expanse of over 450 miles lay between them. They had to manage their journey wisely.
"Are we certain we can make the round trip to gather water within two weeks?" Hilde queried, her voice laced with concern.
Rory had extended the duration from one week to two during their negotiation for fifteen wagons.
