Cori Celis

The Stone

Elia wandered through the forest, enjoying the peace and quiet as she always did. There was nothing but the rustling of her backpack, the clink of her knife handle tapping the canteen in her hip bag, and the rhythm of her boots hitting the ground beneath her feet. She would have to better secure that knife after setting out her bed for the night, she thought, but the percussion was welcome. It had been a while since she heard anything that resembled music. Making camp in this area would be a breeze with plenty of rock overhangs and bushes to settle against. It was a stroke of luck that she found such a quiet pass through the mountains, though not entirely surprising. Elia was a lucky one, and it was the reason she was alone now. Her last group encampment got raided by marauders. It was a rare occurrence these days, and she escaped unscathed as she tended to do. They were nice people, and she was going to miss the camaraderie, but surviving was easier without attachments.