The sun had barely climbed the sky when they left camp.

Sloco led the way, his strides determined but careful. The air was crisp, and the damp earth beneath their boots made little sound as they moved eastward. Behind him, Percil walked with practiced ease, her eyes scanning the treeline. Garan trailed slightly, his axe slung lazily over his shoulder, whistling under his breath.

They didn’t speak at first. The only sounds were the occasional rustling of leaves and the distant call of birds.

The mine and lumber area wasn’t far—half an hour at most. Sloco had passed through it many times before, but now, in the early morning, it looked different. The logging site was quiet, save for a few workers sharpening their saws. The mine entrance yawned like a dark mouth, its depths swallowing whatever light tried to reach inside.

They walked past without stopping. The workers barely spared them a glance.

It wasn’t until they reached the treeline beyond that Percil finally spoke.

“Alright. We should talk about what we’re actually doing.”

Sloco didn’t answer right away. He kept his eyes forward, stepping carefully over a patch of exposed roots.

“We know what we’re doing,” he said eventually. “We’re exploring.”

Percil sighed. “That’s not a goal. That’s an excuse.”

Sloco frowned but didn’t argue.

“Gor’il wants land,” she continued. “That’s our priority.”

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Sloco exhaled through his nose. “That’s your priority.”

Percil didn’t bite back. She just studied him, waiting.

Garan, who had been silent until now, chuckled. “I’m just here for a break.”

Percil shot him a look. “A break?”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “Nothing like a nice little walk through the deadly unknown to clear the mind.”

Sloco snorted despite himself.

“But,” Garan added, “if we’re talking priorities, mine’s simple. Get out there, come back alive, maybe not lose any limbs in between.”

Percil raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

She shook her head but let it go. Instead, she turned back to Sloco. “And you?”

Sloco hesitated.

He could tell her the truth. That he wasn’t just looking for land. That he was looking for something—anything—that hinted at civilization beyond their camp.

That he was looking for his parents.

But he didn’t say that.

Instead, he just said, “I want to see what’s out there.”

Percil watched him for a long moment but didn’t push.

They walked in silence for a while, the trees growing denser around them. The further they went, the quieter it became, the sounds of the camp fading behind them.

Eventually, Garan sighed. “Well, at least we brought plenty of food.”

Percil nodded. “Enough for a week if we stretch it.”

Sloco glanced at her. “Did we pack firewood?”

She blinked. “…No.”

They stopped.

Garan looked between them. “Firestarter?”

Silence.

Sloco clenched his jaw. “You’re kidding.”

Percil pressed her fingers to her temple. “We… did not think this through.”

Garan sighed dramatically. “And this is why I push for safer choices.”

Sloco groaned. “Great. So we have food, but nothing to cook it with.”

Garan scratched his chin. “Well, if we really had to, we could eat some of it raw.”

Percil grimaced. “Not unless you want to get sick.”

Sloco glanced at the trees. “We’ll have to find dry wood.”

Percil nodded. “And fast, before the sun starts setting.”

Garan stretched his arms. “So. First problem of the expedition. Feels like home already.”

Sloco sighed.

This was going to be a long trip.