Story building #3b

        The morning sun swept up over the young green treetops of the misty woods. As it did, six humanoid figures emerged from the trees, each wearing a hooded cloak. They were greeted by their tired comrades and worried families. One particularly bulky individual was pulled into a bear hug by a shorter, but no less bulky warrior. Another of the figures was tackled by two small bundles of energy. While the other three were received with a comparable treatment, one resting a bow against his shoulder slipped away to the south end of the liberator camp.

        At the edge of the camp, set apart from the closer gypsy tents was a vardo wagon with several ayrshire cows grazing beside it. Alongside the wagon was an adjoined canvas tent branching to the east. The polished wood of the roof began to gleam in the emerging sunlight when the archer entered into his tent-wagon home. He heard the gentle breathing of his ward behind a curtain of canvass. He removed his cloak and boots as quietly as he could and lowered his youthful, but tired body onto his bed. A bed that was made of twisted straw and lavender, which belonged to Claude Pythian.