The drizzle was tireless as it fell, during the rainy season of June.
Raindrops landed on the wide surface of the Lerma River, creating layers of ripples. A gentle breeze brushed across the fields of sprouting new shoots, where corn saplings were joyfully growing tall. Beneath the corn were the newly sprouted beans and squashes.
Xiulote stood on the watchtower of the mountain stronghold, squeezed together with Aweit, looking towards the lake and camp on the opposite bank of the river. The Tarasco's patrol team was inspecting the riverbank in the rain, just like the Mexica army on this side.
"I finally see the advantage of this flag. At least it can block the rain." Xiulote reached out to adjust the commander's flag on Aweit's back, ensuring the flag's umbrellalike top sheltered them both. "You just said this camp is the most important?"