You wake up in a daze, the familiar sounds of the thick forest filling your senses as your eyes flutter open. You're met with the cloth roof of the tent, the uncomfortable straw under you. You push yourself up, getting dressed into the familiar clothes you've been made to wear every day. It's all a familiar routine, one that you've stopped questioning a long time ago. You step outside and your bare feet are met with the forest floor. Before you sits Nolan, your leader, preparing a basket with candles, incense, symbols of the Gods, and offerings of bread and fruit.

"Greetings, under the watchful eye of the morning sun." He murmurs, staring down empty-eyed at the basket as he picks it up under his arm. "Come, child."