The atmosphere in a village not too far from downtown Phyllony was very quiet, maybe because of its location in the middle of the forest. The houses of the residents, which are only made of wood and rattan, stand irregularly with a number that can be counted on fingers, given the very small number of residents.
The cold air at night has reached its lowest point, there is no adequate lighting, only armed with a torch that occasionally wants to dim because of the wind. Being surrounded by wilderness makes the village less like a village in general and more like an association of a group of people who only stay temporarily.
A tall girl was sitting in front of a campfire. Her house is located in the middle of the village, seen staring blankly at the roasted meat in front of her, no one knows what she was thinking, the girl occasionally rubbed her palms together to get rid of the bone-chilling chill.
Krieekkk...