Write about: the camp.
We seem to have reached the end of another September... tick tock, tick tock.
Quiet day off here, though I did manage to accomplish a couple of things around the house. All set to harvest tomorrow for our lovely band of locals.
For the third straight night no fires were permitted, so when nightfall arrived it brought with it bone-chilling cold. Threadbare clothes and tattered bedrolls were no match against the icy breath of the moon.
Other than the irregular chattering of teeth, the men suffered in silence. Their leader was pleased by this discipline, though he would have preferred if it had been internally motivated. He did have to admit, however, that he had made a particularly effective example out of Rhodes the previous night.
They had no way of knowing exactly how close their pursuers were, but their unseen presence grew heavier with each passing hour. The gap was shrinking, shriveling, crumbling to dust.
Soon flight would have to be abandoned.
Soon a stand would have to be made.