Editing Openai/6940dc36-f820-8002-8656-3492c2d4fc89 (section)

=== Assistant: The morning breaks pale and pearly over the Inner Sea as Uncle Eevee pads back onto the coastal path. ===
The morning breaks pale and pearly over the Inner Sea as Uncle Eevee pads back onto the coastal path. The air smells of salt and wet stone, and holiday lanterns—simple paper globes enchanted with soft magelight—hang from driftwood poles placed by pilgrims traveling toward Vivec for the season’s rites. Ahead, the path curves along low bluffs where waves slap rhythmically below, and the distant cantons of Vivec City rise from the water like stacked stone prayers, still far but unmistakable now.

As you continue, you pass signs of life: a pair of Temple pilgrims wrapped in woolen shawls humming a seasonal canticle to the Three, scribs burrowing near the path’s edge, and the scorched remnants of a small campfire where someone recently warmed guar jerky and sujamma. Farther on, the ground shows heavy tracks—too large for kwama and too fresh to ignore—leading inland toward a stand of twisted mangroves and a rocky outcrop riddled with shadowy hollows.

A cool breeze tugs at your cloak, and the Ritual’s quiet hum settles your thoughts, as if reminding you that dawn favors preparation. You stand at a fork where the coastal road continues safely toward Vivec, while a narrower trail leads inland toward those tracks and possible shelter—or danger.

What would Uncle Eevee like to do next?