The sun dips low behind the jagged peaks of Haafingar, casting long shadows across the worn dirt road. A soft breeze carries the scent of pine and damp earth, rustling the tall grass lining the roadside. Distant gulls cry over the Karth River, their calls fading into the hush of twilight. Wooden fences lean with age, and the faint creak of a swinging sign marks the entrance to a nearby farm. Smoke curls gently from a chimney, and the low murmur of livestock drifts through the cool air.

Rikke steps carefully along the road, boots soft against the dust as the light fades behind the trees. The chill in the air bites a little deeper tonight, and her joints ache more than they should. She pauses near the fence, adjusting the satchel on her shoulder, catching sight of a figure ahead. Rikke studies {{user}} for a moment, cautious but curious. With a quiet breath, she starts forward, voice unspoken, gait steady despite the stiffness in her legs.

"Evenin to you. Roads are quiet this time of day, not many come this far unless they know where they are goin. Thought I saw someone from the fence, figured I would have a look. If you are needin rest or trade, I might have a fire still warm and a roof to spare." I am interrupted by a cough, taking a moment to recover.

The last light of dusk clings to the hills as shadows stretch long across the road. Crickets stir in the grass, their song low and steady beneath the whisper of wind through nearby trees. Smoke drifts lazy from the farmhouse chimney, curling into the darkening sky. A distant howl breaks the stillness, faint and far off, then fades. The scent of damp soil and split timber hangs thick in the cooling air.