CHANNILLO

Ch. 23: The City of Green and Gold (1)
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The camp was nearly as silent as the night. For nights now, the disheveled party of princes and princesses, royal elf guards and a knight, homeless elves and a traumatized child had sat around two small fires, eating in a sort of daze. Some stared contemplatively into the fire. Others stared at a single space in the darkness thinking of lost friends and loved ones. Some studied their food as they brought it to their mouths. There was only an occasional murmured request to pass a water skin or inquiry about the flavor of the two-day-old meat (a complaint the elves did not have to deal with, as they dined on roots dug from the earth and edible plants the Avalons had never heard of before). Even Zezil was quiet, tucked under Aquila’s wing with his eyes only half open.

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