Sawtooth Spire Decently Departed

It pleased him to learn of Echelon's good fortune. There were places beyond these wilds that still thrived. Well and good. It appeared as though this particular location had exhausted its generosity and could no longer cater as it had. His eyes skimmed the world beyond. It was pockmarked and ugly, riddled by changes made in the haste of that fateful night. They could not stay and hope that it would reach its full recovery. Survival meant seeking out other, more bountiful lands.

He turned to her, nudging her briefly as he rose to his feet. "Winter comes quickly. We should depart soon." Was this a discussion that required a meeting? Possibly. But those who were committed would leave without question. The rest? Those who stayed would only prove they knew nothing of Tartok. Their culture would remain with them and theirs and disappear into the world right along with them. "Shall we depart come morning or collect the children and go?"