Magician!
In the dead of night, the air was thick with the tension of the unknown.
Logan, the ever-vigilant leader, paced restlessly, his sleepless gaze alert. Beside him, Tyton, Cardia, and Gava mirrored his restlessness, fueled by the unease that rippled through their camp. They gathered under the whispering shadows of ancient trees, sharing strips of dried meat provided by the Elf Prince, their conversation meandering from the desolate expanse of the wasteland to the rumored dangers beyond its borders.
Through the discourse, Logan gleaned insights into the northern stretches of the barren land and the perils that lay outside from Gava and Tyton. His thoughts were interrupted when Fenrir, the warg scout, approached him with a subdued urgency. Logan affectionately stroked Fenrir's coarse fur, puzzled by his presence. "It's been a long trek, my friend. What drives you to forsake rest at such an hour?"