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	[u]Weather[/u]: Partly cloudy, cold. Winds are slowing down for the meantime.
 
	[u]Time[/u]: Midday-ish. Close enough, one way or the other.

	[u]Ambience[/u]: The cold of the morning has let up a bit, but not so much as to make one comfortable outside of stouter attire. One's breath still conjures up images of steam from deep earth. It is tolerable for those acclimated to the climate of the region. At least the wind is calmer than it has been; a  blessing not oft afforded by those upon the leveler land of the moors during a season change.  


[center][color=darkgray][h2]*****[/h2][/color][/center]

   	A general consensus of opinion put the group stopping off to one side of the road for a quick lunch. Setting a fire wasn't conducive to a stop for a hasty meal and they weren't making camp, but maybe if one were skilled and reasonably quick something could be arranged. They traveled along for another decent bit of time before reaching a spot alongside the road that looked perfect for a short stop. Even ground with large, flattish boulders piled (by design or happenstance, none might say) as to afford dry, elevated places to rest. Late autumn and early winter blooming flowers, tiny but numerous, opened up along low-growing scrub and bushes surrounding a decently sized area of short, bent grass and pebbly ground. There was a passable ring of stones for a small fire, if desired, but no obvious fuel in sight. 

	The place seemed recently deserted, likely by one of the northbound wagons which had passed them earlier. Fresh vehicle tracks joined with the shallow-worn ruts which join with the hard, marked road and a damp spot of stone implied a spill of some manner. This had all of the appearances of a popular resting spot along a marginally to moderately used country road; a spot of brief respite before continuing along to the trade route in one direction, or further into the moors in the other. 

        Lizbeth remained listless from the last time she spoke, yet still took to what amounted to her usual tasks when stopping mid-travel, albeit with the silent and mechanical motions of one who learned through repetition. She did not spurn the offer of help from Kathryn though did not say much as she went along, showing what she was doing and holding things out to the tall knight that she would need later. The animals were let loose of their yokes and individually led to spots which still contained foragable grass and hobbled with rope; wedges were placed beneath wagon wheels, brakes set, and mental checklists were ticked. She forced a small smile of gratitude for the assistance.  

	Cecily oversaw Kathryn and her young niece's handiwork as she set up a quick meal. A packing box made for a more or less serviceable spot to lay out their repast, which consisted of, to all overt inspection, a lamb and onion pie with thick, perforated crust, and a small basket of hardcooked eggs. Diluted wine rounded things out for her and the girl. Satisfied with Lizbeth's efforts and her own, she called out to her niece, [color=darkgray]"Lunch is ready, sweetie!"[/color]

	Off in the distance in the direction of the party's destination, foot and cart traffic could be seen making their way toward the group's resting spot. There is space to accommodate them all, should any of them wish to likewise take a breather. The rest area (so to speak) is on slightly elevated ground and provides a good amount of vantage at a distance, and so it is safe to calculate that they are a good way off. It will be a while before they arrive. Without additional means of sight or other detection, few if any details may be gleaned from them - yet.