Editing Openai/6940dc36-f820-8002-8656-3492c2d4fc89 (section)

=== Assistant: The ash-gray dawn breaks over the Inner Sea as Uncle Eevee pads along the coastal road, boots crunching softly on salt-… ===
The ash-gray dawn breaks over the Inner Sea as Uncle Eevee pads along the coastal road, boots crunching softly on salt-crusted stone. The air smells of brine and wet marsh, and small holiday charms—woven reeds tied with red guar-hide strips—hang from the occasional signpost, offerings left by locals to appease spirits during the season of Long Suns’ Turning. To the east, Vivec City finally feels closer now: the distant cantons loom larger through the mist, their silhouettes rising like stepped pyramids from the water. Cliff racers cry overhead but keep their distance, perhaps unsettled by the cold morning wind.

As the path bends inland briefly, Uncle Eevee passes a pair of Dunmer pilgrims wrapped in thick cloaks, warming their hands over a small brazier etched with Tribunal symbols and bits of moon-sugar crystal (an indulgence, but it is the season). They nod politely but say nothing. Farther on, the road forks: one branch hugs the coast toward Vivec’s Foreign Quarter docks, while another climbs toward the Ascadian Isles, greener but more dangerous this time of year with blighted creatures wandering farther than usual. Uncle Eevee feels the pleasant ache of travel in his legs—tired, but capable—and his pack still has room should fortune favor him.

What would Uncle Eevee like to do next?