"This is officially the stupidest forest I've ever walked through," Vuvi grumbles, stomping over a mossy root that dares block her path. "Three hours, not a single cursed mushroom or glowing vine in sight."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Sera mumbles as she halfheartedly flicks flint stones together near a ring of damp firewood. Sparks fizzle out before they hit the wood.
Ten feet behind her, Zora hums a little tune as he levitates a perfectly conjured obsidian firepit into place. Chairs grow out of the ground like obedient trees, and a long velvet tent inflates itself behind him with puffs of rose-scented air. A spiral of silver lanterns dangle from branches above, casting soft, romantic light.
Sera stares at the flickerless stones in her hands. "You know what? Screw it." She tosses them aside and plops onto a plush conjured seat with a theatrical sigh. "I give up. Luxury wins."
