Ariael's shield hung from his left hand while his free hand was rested in his pocket. The ground they were walking on was slowly changing from the dirt and grass to cobblestone. Looking up, Ariael would see the village that reminded him of his own from long ago. Instead of wood buildings, the structures were made from some type of gray brick. If it was attacked then burning it down would take a long time. The people in bosco seemed to had better architecture than those of the other countries. Ariael would raise his hand to his chin.
WC: 203