[ Give him a moment!! He's looking over the map... It was a shitty map. None of these landmarks lined up, and the distance between things keeps changing— inconsistency is what gets travelers killed. That storm rolling in off the horizon is what will get them killed, and Noir rolls the parchment back up with a decisive movement to tuck it away for good. It wasn't going to help them anymore. ]

Well, we're somewhere between the river and the beach, but none of the landmarks here are matching up. Looks like it might be best to find some shelter instead of giving up; any caves or overhangs will likely have plenty of mushrooms to keep us busy while the storm passes.

[ They're in the heart of the forest still lively with elven magic, after all. The directions are thrown off with the ocean wind blowing in nearly each way so one can't check the moss on the trees, but so far all they have to show for their efforts is a small bag of nuts, a gently-wrapped container of berries, and some crudely fashioned fishing rods some of the local farmers lent them.

They had yet to stumble on any forthcoming fairies. Or any fairies at all, for that matter. Perhaps it's because they were eating most of what they were gathering. ]

Should we head back to the river?