They flew across the Lands of Stone in formation, three figures cutting through the afternoon sky.
Damian noticed something strange after the first hour. Masamuk was leading them in a path that curved and wound through territories rather than heading straight toward their destination. The slime would veer east when west seemed logical, would arc around forests that could easily be crossed, would take them through valleys when flying over mountains would be faster.
"Why...are we going this way?"
His voice carried across the wind to Masamuk's obsidian form.
The slime's crimson eyes flickered with something heavy. His body pulsed once, stellar blue points dimming slightly before he answered.
"The straight path would take us through some of the... unfortunate destruction. From before our forces came together to form this current alliance."
Damian's expression grew cloudy.
