The argument didn’t last long, but it had enough bite to be annoying.

"We should all look for wood. It'll be faster," Percil insisted.

"And if something happens while we're all gone?" Sloco countered. "We need a camp set up."

Garan sighed, arms crossed. "Fine, then I'll go alone. You two can have your little tent party."

Percil frowned. "That’s not what I—"

"No, no, it’s fine." Garan put a hand on his chest dramatically. "I’ll be the bigger man. Brave the wilderness. Risk my life. For the sake of comfort and warm soup."

Sloco rolled his eyes. "Just don’t get eaten."

"By what? The trees?" Garan grinned, swinging his axe onto his shoulder before walking off.

With him gone, the work of setting up camp fell to Sloco and Percil.

The clearing they had picked was wide enough to fit their tents, with some space left for a fire pit. Sloco took out his knife and started clearing away rocks and loose branches. Percil laid out the tent fabric, pinning down the corners with stones.

"I hate this part," she muttered.

Sloco, crouched by the ground, glanced up. "The tents?"

"No. Waiting."

She tugged at one of the ropes a little too harshly, then let out a small sigh.

"I just— I don’t like being stuck. Just standing around, hoping nothing goes wrong."

Sloco didn’t say anything at first. He understood the feeling.

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They worked in silence until the tents were up. Sloco had just finished reinforcing the fire pit with extra stones when Percil suddenly tensed.

He followed her gaze and spotted them immediately—wild boars, snuffling around the edge of the clearing.

Percil took a step back. "Sloco."

"They won’t attack."

"How do you know?"

"Because they’re just looking for food." He gestured calmly. "See? They’re not even looking at us."

Percil didn’t look convinced. The boars weren’t hostile, but they were still big, heavy creatures with sharp tusks. She gripped the hilt of her knife, just in case.

Sloco stayed relaxed, watching as the animals rooted around, then shuffled off back into the woods.

Only then did Percil let out a breath. "I still don’t trust them."

Sloco smirked. "I’ll make sure they don’t eat your soup."

She scowled, but the tension in her shoulders eased.

They went back to their tasks, but something else began to gnaw at Percil. At first, she thought it was just the quiet, the way the forest seemed to press in around them. Then she heard it.

A voice.

Distant. Yelling.

She spun around. "Sloco."

He was tying down a tent post. "What now?"

"Did you hear that?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Hear what?"

She swallowed, scanning the trees. "Garan. I think— I thought I heard him."

Sloco stood up properly, listening. The forest was still. There was no shouting. No sound of struggle.

Percil frowned, rubbing her arms. "I could’ve sworn—"

"You worry too much."

She shot him a look. "And you don’t worry enough."

Before Sloco could answer, the underbrush rustled, and Garan emerged with an armful of firewood.

Percil’s whole body relaxed before she could stop herself.

"Took you long enough," Sloco muttered, but there was a small relief in his voice.

Garan grinned. "What, you missed me?"

Percil rolled her eyes, but Garan noticed the tension leaving her. His grin softened as he nudged her shoulder. "Glad I’m back?"

She huffed. "I was more worried about the wood."

Garan snorted and turned to Sloco. "And you? You don’t seem like the type to get emotional, but I think I caught a bit of happiness there."

Sloco scoffed. "Shut up and start the fire."

"Ah, there it is." Garan winked.

With the firewood set, they started a fire. The small flame crackled and grew, sending warmth into the chilly evening air.

Soon, the scent of cooking potatoes filled the camp as they stirred the soup.

Sloco sat back, watching the fire flicker. The journey had barely begun, and already, things felt strangely… normal.

For now, at least.