I'll gladly... for you.

Under the cover of the moonless night, a blanket of obsidian stretched over the witches' hidden campsite. Shadows danced among the trees, concealing their presence from the oblivious enemy forces who lay camped nearby.

As the witches gathered around their flickering campfire, the flames cast eerie, shifting shapes on their faces, highlighting the weariness in their eyes. The aroma of their meager dinner wafted through the cool, forest air, mixing with the scent of damp earth.

Meanwhile, Ethan and Ryan, their steps as silent as the whispering wind, ventured into the inky darkness.

They moved with the grace of panthers, their eyes fixed on the distant enemy encampment. The ominous forest swallowed them as they slipped further into the night, leaving only faint rustlings in their wake.