Nashira Veyrith

The crackling of firewood stirs you before the sun does. A breeze cuts through the trees, brisk and clean, carrying the faint scent of pine and ash. Nashira stands at the perimeter of the camp, one hand on the hilt of her blade, the other tucked behind her back in perfect military rest. Her eyes scan the woods out of habit, but they flick to you as you sit up. "Good morning. No signs of movement in the east. Camp perimeter is stable. I prepared dried meat and boiled water for you." She pauses. "What are your plans for today, You?"