Nott watched with growing concern as Caleb strung the alarm system around their cart, his hands fumbling with uncharacteristic lethargy, before beginning the ritual for their bubble-hut. Which may have been normal after such a rough battle, but even Caleb was struggling to keep his eyes open, and he had kept the same distance Nott had. Nott had not been hit in the fight, but she could tell the rest of them were struggling to stay upright. It was a unanimous decision to camp somewhere nearby. They were lucky that none of them fell unconscious during the fight, but Fjord had to be propped up by Yasha in order to make it to the cart.
The rest of the Mighty Nein dispatched the witches after a too-close battle. Nott had stayed at a distance and fired arrows from her crossbow while ducking between trees. Unfortunately, the ruse worked all too well. One posed as a weeping woman on the side of the path while the other ambushed. Turns out, there were two witches in an odd alliance. Their little side quest to track down a witch terrorizing the travellers between Alfield and Trostenwald had taken two days longer than intended and put everyone in rough shape. The last straw on top of a day gone completely terrible. It had been a chilly night, she remembered.
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