"We'll wash these tomorrow. There's snow in the direction we're going. It's easy to melt with a little bit of fire."
Chim and Ardrian rolled out their blankets and bedrolls. Gerry wandered off.
Ardrian said, "Gerry's on first watch. Chim is next and then I'm last."
Chim said, "You can sleep right here if you want. There's no reason for you to keep on walking in the dark."
Ardrian said, "You might just walk off the mountain."
Margeaux saw the wisdom in their words. She removed her bedroll from her pack. Efficiently she laid it out.
"What is in Lerod?" Chim asked.
"I hope enough Wort to cure my village."
Chim replied, "What kind of illness?"
"It has something to do with the lungs."
Ardrian said in a low voice, "That's another reason why I didn't become a cleric. Sick people. People who aren't sick but think they are. Both kinds are always wanting something from a cleric."
Chim wished them both a good night's sleep.
Margeaux looked at the night sky. The left side of her body, the side facing the fire, was warm. Her bedroll was somewhat scratchy. It was made from wool. Bright stars filled the skies. She placed her pack underneath her head. The sky was clear which made the stars seem even brighter. It hadt been a long time since she'd slept under the stars. To her it seemed time was passing slowly. It would take many more days to get to Lerod. She hoped someone in the city would have enough of the herb for her village. It was entirely possible that the city of Lerod was full of people ill with the same sickness. Her village was somewhat remote so someone brought the sickness with them. A few of the more superstitious villagers believed they're winter wasn't harsh enough and this was the price everyone was paying.