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Chapter 37: The Foxhole

Upon the third day, the bandits stir with excitement. Their desired location is close within grasp. I can note a change in their demeanor. There is a sense of relief that brings more conversation than conflict. Of course, with a stern glance from Averill, the bandits mind their tongues. 'They will have their mouths sewn shut should they reveal too much information.'

The party continues to walk through the hills. On our left, I see a vibrant forest. The leaves seem to shine in the sunlight. I lose my footing as my head cranks towards the forest. Averill grunts as I bump into him.

"My apologies." I bow my head low.

"Watch your step!" He scowls. "We'll be crossing the moor soon enough."

Averill yanks on my rope. I follow his lead while watching the terrain grow uneven. The grass begins to dissipate more and more as we walk farther. Instead of trees, we come across small boulders and shale.

"Careful for snakes, boss," Fairfax advises with a nervous tone.