Thus began their week-long journey on the final stretch to Armid. It was an unremarkable leg of the journey, much the same as the rest had been. Dante didn't know what he expected, though he registered enough disappointment within himself to know that he had expected something. But no news was good news, he supposed. Better their journey remain uneventful than that it be fraught with peril.
Maybe he was just restless at the thought that the town was so close. He felt rather as if he had been living in a sort of limbo until their arrival, stuck on hold until he reached it. There would be no doing anything significant until he did reach it, after all, and thinking on it would merely drive himself to distraction.