With the sun slowly setting, a chance for snow came on the next day. When it hailed, Morians usually sat in their houses and avoided travelling, since especially during the night, it obscured their vision and made it hard to progress. The snow-covered tracks, which were carved in by others hid any potential hints as to where one should go.

Even experts of Shimori, such as Bancho who's had enough experience, refuse to travel in such conditions. If a Morian is caught outside without shelter, they usually seek refuge under trees or in small holes etched into the rocky hills. Some prepare in advance if they believe it's going to snow beforehand. They'll take a nice, visible blue tent made from a thick combination of cotton and wool and sleep in until the weather clears and the sun or the night lights are visible again.

Knowing all this, Bancho decided to halt his travels for a day. Throughout, he had already managed to make his way towards the small entrance of Cirim, which would lead him to the country of Malikan. Unlike most Morians, however, instead of a tent, he knew he could trust a specific person to let him rest for the upcoming days of his journey.

He stepped down from Pearl, petting her head and tightened the rope around a small fence.

"Ah, Bancho!" A woman raised her voice, and the man turned around, with a warm smile meeting hers. He put down his hood and looked into her eyes.

"Mrs Lisa," Bancho bowed. "It's good to see you again."

"What Shin winds have brought you here at the end of Yule? I thought you'd be busy with all that Demonear shenanigans!" Lisa snickered, running back into her rather small and cramped hut, putting on thick gloves and taking off the black cauldron with at least two litres of the fresh hot soup she prepared. "If you'd sent a bird earlier, I'd prepared more! You always had quite the appetite! Hehe. Oh, I know! I'll mash you some seeds as a side meal to the soup, I'll mix 'em up with some jul meat and you'll be full before you know it!"

Bancho took a gander inside. Everything seemed to be out of order, but such was precisely what Lisa made her house to be. To her, when things stood in places where they normally shouldn't, it meant that something had to be worked on. For example, there was a fence in the small, rectangular kitchen area, and two ladders, one broken, led up to her bed.

Lisa turned around, holding the open door and staring at the other Morian. "Come in, Bancho! I reckon it's going to snow tomorrow. Who knows if Shin decides to play around with the clouds a little earlier?"

"That's precisely why I'm here," Bancho announced. "I'll stay in until the snow passes."

"Ah, of course!" she waved, speaking out in a rather raspy voice. "Stupid old me, why would anyone want to visit this grandma otherwise, if it wasn't for a warm refuge?"

"C-Come on, Mrs Lisa." Bancho sat down on the carpeted floor, crossing his legs. "You're making me look like the bad guy here. Lately, I just haven't found the time for simple travels from Mistwick to here."

"Quite the road, yeah." she raised her voice, before walking towards Bancho with two plates in her hand, putting them down on a small table. Bancho nodded, picking up the spoon. "I do wish you came by more often. How long has it been since I last saw you, Bancho? Five years, if I recall. Seems like you haven't aged a day."

"In one's eyes, for sure," Bancho uttered.

"Oh stop it with humility, will you? Look at this old hag, I only seem to get shorter and shorter with age! They always say that Morians have this growth spurt when they're thirteen, but everyone refuses to speak about how short you get later on!"

"Well. Morians are one of the smaller races in Errarion." Bancho added. "I guess on par with Mirilians."

"...and unlike Tributals," Lisa pointed her spoon. "Morians don't age as well as you do!"

Bancho chuckled.

"Shin must've truly blessed you!" she added. "I'd have a word with him about picking favourites!"

Lisa was right—Morians did get shorter with age. The average for adults was about 170 cm, and then their height slowly decreased once they reached their sixties. At this point, Morio would have been taller than Lisa. Additionally, things in her small hut also started to become smaller. She replaced the larger tables with smaller ones, so you could sit down on the floor and enjoy your meal.

"You seem to be fine, though." Bancho spotted, breathing out and putting down the spoon. He looked around the hut. "It's still as lively as you are, Mrs Lisa. Your age doesn't seem to affect your ability to do essentially what you've always done."

"Handcrafts? Or are you talking about my independence?" she winked.

"All of it," he replied.

"Well, Bancho!" she stood up, hurryingly stomping over to the kitchen, pouring another bowl for herself. "Some things don't fade with time. I've always enjoyed making Shin knows what without anyone telling me what's wrong or what's right. Fine on my own, and I even built those new support pillars for the roof last Gorro! The brain doesn't age, that's what I'd say. I feel it in my bones, though." she admitted, putting her hand around her back, as it landed on the green, fuzzy carpet, and then on her spine. "Maybe five more, and I'll be gone. But you better know, Bancho!" she pointed, sitting down once more. "I'll still be kicking it on the last day! I intend to leave no project unfinished!"

Bancho chortled, taking the last sip of the soup. "This isn't really about your age, I don't doubt that, Mrs Lisa. It's safety. I thought that when visiting, I ought to warn you of the things happening around Shimori."

"It's about those demons, isn't it? Birds tell me everything."

"Word spreads around Errarion faster than an eagle flies over the Sap Dog Desert," Bancho admitted, as the sky slowly dimmed, visible from the window behind him. Lisa sighed. "You're not a Demonear, Mrs Lisa. I think it's better if you finally moved back to Mistwick, at least for these years."

"...and leave everything behind? Nonsense, Bancho."

"It's for your safety. I could make a detour and take you there, even now."

"If I lived this long, nothing is truly a threat anymore," she added, beaming. "I've survived waves of cold and extreme snow storms. I've made a friend with an ice wolf in the area, and these weird dark deformities came out of Cirim and tried to attack me. Yet, I'm still here. When we were younger by a few years, we travelled around Shimori, remember? We weren't scared. Just a little curious."

Bancho glanced to the side.

"We saw a witch one day, blessing us with a good word, and we chased her up the hill and even managed to climb a mountain because we thought she'd lead us to some treasure. A normal Morian would fear tapping into the unknown. They're not people who take risks. Then again, we're not normal, are we? Look at us."

"Ah." Bancho sighed, loudly.

"Old hags who should rest for a little longer but refuse to let fate play by its rules." she laughed.

"I guess, Mrs Lisa," Bancho said.

"Welp, good meal!" She put both hands on her knees and eventually stood up, treading to the door. "I'll put Pearl in pen with the others for the night. You don't want your horse to get covered with all that snow, do you?"

"Yes, thank you." Bancho nodded. "I hope the other Morians find a way to deal with the snowstorm as well," he added.

"The others?" Lisa asked.

"A bunch of young Morians from Mistwick. They're travelling to Magna."

"I'm sure they'll figure it out."

Lisa climbed into her bed for the night, while Bancho spread out all the things he needed for a good night's sleep on the carpet. This included his big pillow and the warm blanket that Lisa had given him. After he was ready, he turned his eyes to the second floor.

The other Morian blew out the candle next to her bed and settled down quietly. After a while, Bancho slowly climbed up the ladder without making any noise.

As he heard her snoring, he stuck his hands out, almost touching her back.

"Mann resurum frisk (I resort to hoping.)," spoke Bancho, as his hand lit up in a blue light. "Up mei junya. Nah kann (Let her live. Don't die.)." he shook his head.

"I don't need Demonear magic, Bancho," she muttered. "I'll be fine the way I am."

Bancho sighed, smiling.

"Goodnight," he added.

***

Morio and Jyuzou's first goal was reaching Wendigo, a town that, much like the Camp Forest, rested near the Aria River. It was closer to Magna, and a three-day long trip, if everything went according to plan.

Of course, the quickest way to move through was taking a boat from one of the snowy edges and praying that the Middle Waters, which describe a section between the two towns, would be calm that day.

Morio's plan meant going through the most obvious of paths, tracing his finger on the map and even marking the roads with charcoal, using another piece of paper. 

Firstly, they set out towards the Uvo Forest, which was coincidentally the same place where Bancho saw a demon the other night, however, with the sun still shining in, this was no more than a plethora of trees, relatively even and bushless.

Snow was rather shallow, there weren't any big drifts, and the sun barely reflected on some of its parts. It had trouble sneaking in between the white and dark-green crowns, but in general, you could still make everything out, and spot anything out of the ordinary.

A few animals roamed around, mainly with smaller juls (which could be described as this mix of wolves and hedgehogs) and actual hedgehogs, feeding on seeds. No people lived in the forest, and it was about an hour-long walk from there to the other side.

Once the bark of the trees grew sparser and were no longer so tightly packed, Morio and Jyuzou decided to take a short rest, breaking the rather awkward silence.

"This is probably the furthest I ventured away from home." Jyuzou scratched his head.

"Really?" Morio asked. "Even I went to Century Valley with Mr Bancho once!"

"Well." Jyuzou picked up a small twig from the ground and juggled it from one hand to the other. "I guess it's finally time to, uh." he gulped. "Go a little further."

"Heh." Morio turned, grabbing the mentioned stick from his palm. "We'll cross these paths together! I'm honoured that it's me who shows you the ropes, and not Victoria!"

"S-Sure. You seem excited."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Shimori's dangerous. I don't know if there's anything cool about that." Jyuzou raised his voice.

"Come on, I'm a future Demonear!" he tapped Jyuzou's shoulder. "I'll handle everything!"

Jyuzou nodded, almost to himself, as Morio trod forward, carrying the stick like a true adventurer. "Man," he uttered, loud enough. "I knew people said that the Uvo Forest was quite barren, but I half-expected at least s-some of that to just be rumours. I haven't even seen any new plants yet, and..."

His eyes widened, a little. A trail of seeds seemed to lead up to a bigger coniferous tree, standing atop a small hill separating the other part of the road and the last copses of the forest. The Morian looked up, spotting a plump, orange fruit. "Oh! Nahi!" he pointed. "That's nahi!"

"Who?" Morio turned around.

"Not a person! Nahi, the fruit!" Jyuzou added, smiling. "It's this sweet, jelly-like fruit that sticks to the roof of your mouth and satisfies your thirst and hunger! It only grows on ciders like these, with a red tint to its wood." he pressed against the bark, as one bit fell off, revealing the exact shade he mentioned.

A wide smile appeared, and Morio seemed almost concerned.

"How are you planning to get that?" the other boy asked. "You're not tall enough to reach that branch."

Jyuzou started pacing back and forth thinking of a solution to his newly-found problem. He took out both of his books, looked up, quickly sketched the fruit and put down the journal, still holding the other paperback, before crouching and putting both of them on his head.

"I got it!" he yelled out. "Morio! SHAKE THAT TREE WITH ME!" he pointed.