The Edge of Twilight
The past three days have been miserable. The dark gray skies remain cold and dead. A damp winter wind coming off the Sea of Pelluria has produced no rain but has made sleeping almost unbearable. This past night has passed by uneventfully. The group has been quiet all night as the dawn approaches on the 5th day in the arc of shareel.
Just as the first murkiness of light breaks the entire company is brought to their feet by the call of a returning scout. Galamir abruptly breaks his conversation with his elven advisor to speak with the scout. The scout looks winded but not frantic. Picking up a stick he begins to draw something in the ground and points to the northeast. After examining the plans for a minute or so, Galamir stands up from his crouched position.
“Gather up wolves, we break camp quickly this morning. We have quarry to hunt!” shouts Galamir. The entire company sets into motion as Galamir and several others of the company begin to confer. The morning light has barely risen when the camp has been cleared and all are packed up for the run.