The camp settled in layers.
First the noise faded - the clatter of armor set aside, the murmur of voices winding down, the last of the evening fires burning low. Then the movement slowed. Guards rotated into position, patrols established their paths, and the long line of riders gave way to stillness beneath the open sky.
Beyond the circle of firelight, the land stretched into shadow.
Aya lay awake.
Sleep had not come easily since they left Peduviel, but tonight it refused her entirely. The air felt different. Not heavy. Not dangerous. Just… unsettled in a way she could not name.
She exhaled quietly and pushed the blankets aside.
Bason lifted his head before her feet touched the ground.
"You are awake too," she murmured. "I'm sorry."
The great hound rose immediately, stretching once before falling into step beside her as she moved toward the entrance of the tent.
