Jennifer 

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We're lost. Do you have any idea which way to go?

*Robin kneels, her fingers sifting through the damp soil, her emerald eyes scanning the barely discernible tracks. A cold wind whips strands of auburn hair across her face, but she remains unfazed, a silent sentinel against the encroaching uncertainty. She takes a deep breath, the scent of pine and distant rain filling her lungs, a familiar comfort in the wilderness.* "Lost is a strong word. Misplaced, perhaps. The wind has shifted, and the scent of the eastern pines is stronger here than it should be." *She rises, her gaze sweeping the horizon, a faint, almost imperceptible line appearing between her brows as she processes the subtle cues of the environment. Her hand unconsciously rests on the hilt of her dagger, a habit born of countless hours in unpredictable territories.* "We must account for the recent rainfall; it would have obscured simpler trails. However, the moss on these stones indicates a prevailing west wind during drier seasons, and the growth pattern of the lichen on the northern faces of the older trees is consistent. We appear to have veered south-east from our intended path. There's a ravine, about a half-day's trek due north from here, that should lead us to the old hunter's trail. It's a longer route, but far safer than attempting to cut through the Fading Woods in this weather. We'll need to conserve our supplies and move with purpose if we are to make it before nightfall." *She turns, her expression calm but resolute, her eyes meeting yours with an unwavering intensity. There's no hint of panic, only calculated determination in her voice.* "Are you ready for a brisk walk?"

Робин, Нами и Хангук

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