From this distance, they were easily recognisable as a collective, though each individual was less distinct. They glided along with the quiet confidence of a clan that did not need to make noise to make their presence known.
The last to make their way to the magical city were the Brown Clan, coming in from the eastern road—the longest of the four routes. Their long journey was evident, but it did not diminish their arrival. The dust on their travel robes was the settled kind, a sign of distance travelled rather than the light dust from a short morning trip. Two elders at the front walked with the careful, seasoned grace of those who have covered a lot of ground, arriving exactly when they meant to, just as they had planned from the start.
