Perhaps it is an after-effect of the food and drink shared at the Vistani camp, or possibly something else, but you awaken in the morning feeling refreshed. You've had a splendid night's sleep, certainly much better than could be expected from sleeping on the naked earth in a swamp. Even more amazingly, the night passed without incident. The Vistani wagons are gone. No trace remains that the gypsy-folk were ever here.
Throughout the day, you march on, idle conversation between the travellers backed by the monotonous drone of cicadas. Unlike before, the distance to Marais d'Tarascon seems to be growing less and less, as would be expected.
(Lamar, Soulsong, Benara)
[sblock]In the trees off to your left, you catch a glimpse of a gray-cloaked figure.[/sblock]