Snow drifted lazily through the air as Ren leaned back against the cold stone of one of the boulders scattered around Ur, his arms folded tightly across his chest.
Beside him, Thorn tossed a rock into the snow with a whistle, kicking his boots against a stump to shake off the cold.
Meanwhile, Lilith perched on top of the boulder, her red eyes fixed on the distant road winding into Ur. Her hair fluttered slightly in the wind, and she hadn't blinked in over a minute.
"There he is." Ren said, pointing with his chin.
A lone figure trudged up the path. He wore a wide straw hat that obscured most of his face and a dark green cloak that billowed behind him in the wind.
A thin sword rested on his back, and a carved walking stick tapped rhythmically against the frozen ground. His gait was relaxed, but deliberate.
"That him?" Thorn asked.
Ren nodded. "That's Dario. Our guide to the Seventh Peak."
"Looks more like a farmer than a guide." Thorn muttered, raising a brow.
