Atira suddenly stopped.
Ahead lay an expansive water surface, shimmering under the sunlight with a dark green hue like emerald.
Surrounded by withered trees at the water's edge, she quickly grasped a vine of a banyan tree and climbed up, hanging diagonally from the tree, hands grasping the vine to take a look into the distance. Then she let go, dropping down and dusted off her hands to the others, "Stop here, let's take a break."
The voice of the Elf Girl was soft, like the gentle afternoon sunlight filtering through the curtain vines and illuminating the desk, the dust particles moving quietly and gracefully, bringing peace to the heart.
The others stopped too. Gita let out a sigh, unbuckled the giant book's fastener, took it off his back, leaned his slender body against a decayed wood covered with moss, and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand; sweat ran down his thin arms, steamy hot.
