Where the village ended, the countryside suddenly began, even if it was cut off by the wide swathe of water nearby. The grass was relatively short, and all trees had been cut back to prevent bandits from attacking the Northern merchants. Despite the manufactured look, it was pretty. Wild flowers of many hues had begun to reclaim the road where upkeep had slackened. Zya felt sorry for whatever it was that this village was going to go through, but she knew that they had to get away. Looking at the open countryside for one last time, the four people crossed the stout stone bridge that had seen the passage of countless beings, and plunged into the darkness of the boar woods.
The openness of the countryside was lost to them as they rode cautiously down the damp track that led into the forest.
