You walked along the trail slowly as night began to fall, careful to stay close to the guiding light of the touches hung from tree branches and rocky outcroppings. The air was cool with a faint breeze, but your hood kept you warm enough as you stepped over the mossy cobblestones and broken branches.
You were not even a full mile outside the official city limits and yet the terrain in front of you has already drastically shifted. Instead of smooth streets and tall buildings you found yourself surrounded by trees and kicking up small clouds of dust and rock every time you stepped off the main trail even slightly. All told, the wilderness in this district only covered about 20-30 square miles, though it seemed just as savage as a jungle the size of a continent.
After nearly twenty minutes of walking you came across a faded wooden sign leaning off to the side of the path. On one end was a painting of a green arrow pointing right with a picture of small triangles and lines above it, probably meant to be tents and people. The other end had a red arrow pointing left with a bunch of smooth crescent shapes sketched below it, which seemed to represent hills or maybe domes of some kind. Which way do you go?
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