Marshwing were sitting in a tree on the outskirts of town on a lazy summer afternoon. This old oak tree was the perfect place to idle and squabble an afternoon away. Ever since being forced out of their home, the brothers had felt...lonely. They'd promised to keep in contact with their old followers, find a new place to stay, but they'd...well, they'd lost contact with their people. It was a horrible thing, and neither of them liked it, but they were alone here. All they had was each other, and the nagging feeling that they'd failed their...constituency. Tension was high, so the brothers were up a tree, alternating between bickering and stewing in silence.

At the moment, they were stewing. All around them, grasshoppers whined, birds chirped, and occasionally, a breeze would rattle the leaves in the oak branches or the long grass around the tree. All in all, another unproductive, unremarkable day.