Reaching the entrance of the tent, I paused for a moment, listening for any sounds inside. I could hear the faint murmur of movement, but nothing that hinted at an immediate attack. Still, I wasn't about to let my guard down.
With one swift motion, I parted the cloth flaps and stepped inside.
As I stepped inside, I was greeted by an unexpectedly warm interior, completely at odds with the cold hostility I'd prepared for. The tent, much larger than I had anticipated, was bathed in a soft golden glow, courtesy of the countless candles placed carefully around the space. Their flickering flames cast dancing shadows across the canvas walls, filling the air with a faint, yet noticeable scent. Incense? Perhaps. It was subtle but foreign—strange for a war camp, almost out of place. The entire setup felt surreal.
Yet, the most peculiar thing was the silence.
