The sun was high in the sky, beating down mercilessly on those on earth as Ren, Lilith, Valen, and Commander Halwen rode with a unit of a dozen armed settlers, making their way towards the abandoned town where the infected had taken root.
Even this far out, the wind carried with it the scent of distant ash, making sure everyone remembered Rainhold's fall.
Ren's horse trotted beside Halwen's, hooves muffled by the soft earth. Lilith and Valen rode near him, eyes sharp, their hands never far from their weapons.
Each rider moved with a quiet tension, every one of them well aware that the last time they'd come close to the infected, and how it had nearly cost them their lives.
Elias had stayed behind to tend to Thorn, whose strength had returned with alarming speed. He'd even joked that Thorn's appetite now rivaled a warhorse's as he was eating enough for three and talking enough for five.
Everyone was optimistic. A few more days, and he'd be back on his feet.
