Wild Strawberry

I awoke on my feet with a knife in my hand, the sun low and red in the sky. I kicked my belongings from the path of the crawling campfire, and woke Aria as the flames caught her bedroll. Our camp was strewn across the forest, our food mostly gone. Our companions lay about haphazardly; Evie somehow slept soundly in a tree, while our pathfinder lie half submerged in the shallows of the lake, nestled under a bed of pine needles. That'll teach us for having an absentminded wizard keep watch. This cider is the red dawn and the half remembered night preceding.