The morning sun had climbed well above the canyon walls by the time the cart rolled out of the bandit camp's territory and onto a proper road. The terrain, while still rough, was noticeably more traveled—packed earth rather than scattered rocks, with occasional wheel ruts from previous caravans.
Seraphina held the reins with practiced ease, her injured arm now properly bandaged and moving more freely. "It seems we've finally reached the main route through the gorge," she observed, nodding toward the road ahead. "This section is regularly patrolled—or at least, it's supposed to be. The bandits must have been intercepting travelers before they could reach this point."
Adam glanced ahead, noting the relative smoothness of the path. "Finally. Back to normal roads." He stretched, his joints popping. "Though 'normal' is relative out here."
