The next morning, Del woke early, stirred by the mingling sounds of birdsong and the soft, rhythmic purring of Misty beside him. The cat was curled up near the still-warm embers of their fire, her little body rising and falling with each snore. The campsite, however, lacked one key detail—Elara.
Sitting up, Del scanned the hollow, noting their gear mostly remained in place. The bow was gone but the quiver rested against the base of a tree. That reassured him somewhat. She probably hadn’t run off entirely, though a flicker of unease lingered.
‘If she’s left, she’s her own person,’ he reasoned, rubbing his eyes. ‘As long as she’s safe, that’s all that matters.’ Even as he thought it, his stomach tightened. She’d seen so much in so little time. Maybe too much.
He stoked the smouldering coals from last night, feeding them twigs and a few small branches. Soon, faint flames licked the wood, crackling softly as he set about preparing breakfast. Above, a blanket of grey clouds crept across the sky, dulling the light and thickening the air with the earthy tang of last night's rain. A steady breeze rustled through the trees, carrying with it the scent of damp soil.
With a flat cooking stone placed carefully next to the fire, Del laid strips of pork to sizzle and began taking stock of their supplies. It wasn’t much. The food would last another day, maybe two if Elara had indeed left. His gaze shifted to the hollow, where scattered remnants of their collected gear lay—a mismatched assortment of scavenged weapons, the bandit’s throwing knives, and his own sword.
‘We’re in desperate need of proper supplies,’ Del admitted to himself with a sigh.
‘Well, perhaps you should have demanded better shit to start with then numbnuts,’ Dels more irritable side had been quiet too long and seemed all too happy to make a comeback in full sarcasm mode now.
The thought of wandering through the wilderness understocked gnawed at the back of his mind. He was going to have to address the matter sooner rather than later.
He reached for the pouch tied at his belt, the contents clinking faintly as he untied it. Elara’s earlier explanation of the currency system came to mind as he counted: fifty-nine coppers, six tins, and a small collection of rings they’d taken from the brigands. His fingers brushed against the cloth-wrapped ring Elara had warned him about, the one she believed held magical properties.
‘Cursed items,’ Del thought with a grimace. The idea of inadvertently shackling himself to some malevolent force made his skin crawl. The ring would stay wrapped and untouched until they could get it properly identified.
‘We,’ he thought again, pausing. His lips pressed into a thin line. ‘There you go, making assumptions, Del. Yesterday might’ve been too much for her. She’s probably halfway back to her home by now.’ Irritated, he kicked a small stone near the fire, sending it clattering against a tree.
The sound startled Misty awake. She stretched luxuriously, her golden fur catching the early morning light, before blinking at him with curious eyes. She seemed to sense his unease, sending a warm pulse of reassurance through their link.
‘Ah, for the wisdom of a cat,’ Del mused with a faint smile. Her unshakable calm was both infuriating and oddly comforting.
‘Any wisdom would be better than that idiocy you claim is common sense,’ he snipped back.
Draining the last of his waterskin, Del rose, the faint creak of stiff joints reminding him of how little rest he’d truly had. The river wasn’t far—just a short walk through the trees—but the effort of moving seemed heavier than usual. As he made his way, the soft burble of water grew clearer, mingling with the faint calls of birds flitting above the canopy. The air was cool and damp, carrying the subtle scent of wet stone and moss, a faint hint of rain still lingering from the night before.
When the river came into view, he paused. A small pile of fish lay near the bank, neatly arranged alongside Elara’s bow and, to his mild surprise, the carefully folded linen shirt he’d given her. His gaze flicked toward the water, where pale hair fanned out like golden threads across the surface. Elara floated lazily, her eyes closed, her body following the gentle pull of the current.
As if sensing his presence, she turned her head and opened her eyes, spotting him immediately. Her face lit up with a bright grin as she bobbed upright and waved. Without hesitation, she waded toward the bank, water streaming from her limbs, her movements effortless and unhurried.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said lightly, brushing droplets of water from her arms. She seemed utterly at ease, her bare skin catching the soft light filtering through the trees.
Del quickly crouched by the river, his eyes fixed firmly on the waterskin he was refilling. His mind raced, torn between propriety and the practical reality of their situation. “No problem,” he replied gruffly, aiming for nonchalance and falling just short. “We all have nights like that.”
Elara reached for the shirt as he spoke, slipping it over her head in a single fluid motion. The fabric, still slightly damp from the previous day, clung to her form in a way that made Del’s jaw tighten involuntarily. The makeshift dress—held together with a length of rope she’d tied at her waist—was far from modest, though it was better than nothing.
‘Focus on the water, Del,’ he chided himself, clenching his jaw as he tightened the waterskin’s cap. ‘If she doesn’t care, why should I?’ He couldn’t quite shake the thought, though. The ease with which she moved, the complete lack of self-consciousness—it was foreign to him, another reminder of how different their worlds were.
‘You shouldn’t stare, you know,’ came his inner voice, sharp and mocking. ‘Or do you want her to think you’re some kind of letch?’
‘I’m not staring,’ he snapped back internally. ‘Just... noticing.’
‘Noticing? Sure, mate, let’s go with that,’ the voice replied, dripping with sarcasm.
Elara didn’t seem to notice his inner conflict. Instead, she lifted the pile of fish with a triumphant smile. “I caught us breakfast,” she announced cheerfully. “They’re slow swimmers, so it wasn’t too hard to shoot them. I figured Misty might appreciate something fresh.”
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
Del stood, brushing damp soil from his hands before taking the fish from her. “This’ll be a good change in diet,” he agreed, examining the catch. “And Misty will definitely approve. But you’re in luck—we’ve still got bush bacon sizzling back at camp.”
Elara’s eyes lit up at the mention of food, though she made no comment, instead busying herself with securing her bow and tying strips of scavenged cloth into foot wrapping. Del couldn’t help but notice how quickly she moved, her earlier carefree manner giving way to an almost mechanical efficiency. He studied her for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly.
“You’re in a good mood,” he ventured, his tone light but probing.
She paused, glancing up at him briefly before tying off the last of her makeshift shoes. “It’s just nice to be useful,” she said simply, though her voice held a faint undercurrent of something heavier.
Del nodded, deciding not to press. Instead, he gestured toward her feet. “We need to find some way to get you proper boots.” Taking a step up the path to the camp he added. “Come on. Breakfast is waiting, and I’m sure Misty’s already plotting how to steal our share.”
Elara chuckled softly as they began walking, the tension in her posture easing just a little. Del followed close behind, his thoughts a mix of concern and curiosity. Something was still weighing on her—he was sure of it. But for now, he let it lie, focusing instead on the smell of cooking pork drifting through the trees.
“I’d say that means it’s ready,” she said sniffing the air, her mood noticeably brighter.
Del chuckled. ‘Maybe things aren’t as bad as I thought,’ he mused, glancing at her. She seemed lighter somehow, though he suspected the strain of the previous day still lingered beneath her cheery façade.
Back at the camp, Misty greeted them with an inquisitive meow, her nose twitching as she sniffed the air. When Elara offered her a piece of fish, the cat promptly purred her approval, winding around the elf’s legs in gratitude. Del watched the exchange, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
‘Sometimes, it’s the little things,’ he thought, settling by the fire to divide up breakfast.
The slabs of pork sizzled on the cooking rock, their edges crisping to a perfect golden brown. Fat dripped into the edge of the fire, sending up little bursts of flame and a mouthwatering aroma that made Del’s stomach growl in anticipation. The few herbs they’d managed to scavenge added a subtle depth to the flavour, but as he chewed the first bite, he couldn’t help but feel something was missing.
‘Carbs. Gods, what I wouldn’t give for a proper loaf of bread or a plate of potatoes,’ Del thought wistfully, glancing at the sorry lump of bread he’d salvaged from the bandit’s pack. Its surface was speckled with mould, the green patches glaring up at him as a reminder of how far he’d fallen from his old life. He carefully sliced away the offending parts and held the rest over the coals, the heat hardening it into something vaguely toast-like.
Misty, meanwhile, was crouched a few feet away with her own prize—a fish she was savaging with great enthusiasm. The cat’s sharp teeth tore through the flesh, her fur streaked with tiny flecks of juice. Del shook his head, amused by her single-minded focus.
“Well, at least someone’s happy,” he muttered, earning a flick of her tail in reply.
Beside him, Elara took a bite of her pork, chewing thoughtfully before nodding in satisfaction. “This is good,” she said, her voice muffled around the food. “Better than yesterday’s, for sure.”
Del smirked. “High praise. I’ll take it.”
They ate in companionable quiet for a while, the sounds of the forest providing a soothing backdrop. Birds chirped in the canopy above, their songs mingling with the rustle of leaves and the soft crackle of the fire. When the food was mostly gone, Del leaned back, wiping his hands on his trousers.
“We need a plan for today,” he said, breaking the silence. “Supplies are running low, and I don’t fancy another night wondering if we’ll stumble across something edible.”
Elara nodded, brushing crumbs from her lap. “Keep following the river?”
“Seems like our best bet,” Del agreed. “It has to lead somewhere eventually. A settlement, maybe. And with any luck, one that’s not overrun with goblins or brigands.”
Her lips twitched at that, though the humour didn’t quite reach her eyes. The events of the last few days still weighed heavily on her, and Del didn’t blame her.
By the time they finished packing up, the earlier clouds had dispersed and the sun had climbed higher, its rays filtering through the trees in golden shafts. The air was cool but carried a hint of warmth that promised a pleasant day ahead. Del hefted his pack, the weight of it a constant reminder of how little they had.
‘We’ll manage,’ he told himself.
The morning passed uneventfully, the two of them walking in steady silence along the riverbank. Misty darted ahead as usual, her lean form weaving effortlessly through the underbrush. Occasionally, she sent faint flickers of reassurance through their link—a subtle reminder that she was keeping watch.
It wasn’t until the afternoon that Del caught the first hint of something unusual. He stopped mid-step, his nose wrinkling as a faint scent drifted on the breeze. It was subtle at first, barely noticeable against the natural smells of earth and water, but it grew stronger as they walked.
“Woodsmoke,” he said aloud, glancing at Elara.
She sniffed the air, her brows furrowing. “You’re right. It’s coming from down the valley.”
Misty, still ahead, hadn’t given any signal of danger, but Del’s instincts prickled nonetheless. He motioned for Elara to halt, scanning their surroundings for any signs of movement. The forest seemed unchanged—quiet, peaceful even—but the scent of smoke added an edge of unease.
Elara, without waiting for instruction, slung her bow over her shoulder and began climbing a nearby tree. Del watched as she moved with practised ease, her slender form disappearing into the foliage.
A few moments later, she dropped lightly back to the ground, her expression thoughtful. “It’s about a mile away,” she said, brushing a stray leaf from her hair. “I saw a chimney near the river, but the trees block most of the view. Whatever it is, it’s at the edge of the wood. Beyond that... not many trees, from what I could see.”
Del nodded, her report stirring a mix of emotions—relief at the possibility of civilisation and unease at the potential dangers it could bring. “We’ll approach carefully,” he said, adjusting the strap of his pack. “But if it’s a settlement, this could be what we’ve been hoping for.”
Elara’s lips curved into a tentative smile, though she still stood closer to him than usual, her hand brushing against his arm as they resumed walking. Del noticed the subtle shift in her demeanour—the way her shoulders seemed a little tenser, her steps a little more cautious.
‘She’s worried,’ he thought, a pang of guilt surfacing.
‘And you’re not?’ his alter voice chimed in. ‘Because, clearly, everything’s gone so smoothly up to now.’
Del gritted his teeth, shoving the thought aside. “Stick close,” he said to Elara, his voice softer than usual.
“I wasn’t planning on wandering off,” she replied lightly, though the slight edge in her tone betrayed her nerves.
They continued following the riverbank, the forest growing quieter as the afternoon deepened. Misty reappeared up ahead, her tail flicking in a lazy arc as she padded toward them. Del and Elara stopped in their tracks, waiting as the cat approached.
Misty sat down a few feet away, her amber eyes fixed on Del as if expecting him to understand some unspoken message. A faint pulse of reassurance flickered through their link, but it was tinged with something else—anticipation, maybe.
Del crouched, meeting her gaze. “You found something?”
Misty tilted her head, her expression maddeningly inscrutable.
Elara crouched beside him, her eyes darting between Del and the cat. “What’s she trying to tell us?”
“She’s not worried, which is a good sign,” Del said slowly, standing. “But she’s definitely leading us toward something.”
Elara tightened her grip on her bow, her knuckles whitening slightly. “Then let’s hope it’s friendly.”
With that, they continued down the path, a mix of hope and trepidation weighing heavily on their steps as the scent of woodsmoke grew stronger in the air.