Gwendolyn sat by the fire, the heat of the flames warding off the chill of the night.
They had found some shelter beneath a jagged rock formation that jutted out, forming a rough canopy above them. It wasn't much, but it was enough to block out the worst of the wind and snow. The icy night howled around them, but here, under the rock's protection, they had a brief moment of peace. It wasn't ideal, but for now, it was the only place they could rest.
She looked up, her eyes gazing into the inky darkness of the sky. It was a clear night, and the stars shone brightly overhead.
Malgarius was nearby, keeping watch as his face was etched with exhaustion. He was sitting on a large rock, his sword resting across his knees. "We'll need to get moving soon," he said quietly.
Gwendolyn glanced at him with worry. "How much longer can we keep going, Milord?"
Malgarius shrugged. "As long as we have to. We can't afford to stop now."
