Glen took great notice of his surroundings. During his travels, he had learned the art of paying attention to the land, rather than his feet as Shira did. Ask him how many trees he had passed on his journey, and her would answer you accurately. Tell him to describe a certain place, and he would do it unfailingly. Glen would have breathed new life into cartography, had he entered its realm, but he had never dreamed of doing any sort of job or task. This was why he had left the village, loyal, clumsy Shira on his heels. But Glen took great notice of surroundings.
And for this reason, as he trudged through the open plains of Atora (Or was it Klinder? Disliking the hindrance of maps and not having a destination anyways, Glen wasn't sure), he took very careful notice of the wooden signpost standing listlessly in his path. Cocking his head, Glen slowed his pace to examine the strange marker.
"Glen?" Shira called in her nervous, wavering voice. "What is it?"
"This signpost," replied the traveler. "I haven't seen a road in two days, much less a village. Why place it here?"
Shira leaned in to get a closer look, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun's rays. Squinting, she read, "'Alabaster, North, Ten miles. Lighthampton, East, Six miles.' And..." The girl frowned. "'Damnation, Downwards, Inevitable.' What in God's name does that mean?"
Glen chuckled, running a hand over the etched-in words. "Someone added this after the sign was already created. Nice touch. Well, that means there's civilization near, anyways. We're lucky!"
"Y-Yes..." replied Shira, still feeling fingers of chill dancing up and down her spine. "I'm starving."
"Well, we go then!" announced Glen, slinging his (mostly empty) pack back on his shoulders.
"But Glen, which way?" called Shira, looking pointedly at the two arrows. (And the one scratched-in one.)
"Isn't it obvious? We go..."