The next few days felt… strange.
After a long time of nothing but hunting and training, Teclos finally stood still. No tracking beasts through the woods. No returning drenched in blood and exhaustion. No pressure, no watchful eye of the old man pushing him forward, no urgency driving his every step.
Just—
Time.
Too much of it.
And with that time came thoughts he couldn't push away, no matter how much he tried to ignore them.
Teclos walked slowly down the paved road of Kolma, his hands tucked into his coat as a cold but gentle breeze brushed against his face. Winter hadn't fully left yet—patches of snow still clung stubbornly to rooftops and gathered along the edges of the road, while the ground beneath his boots remained damp from the melted snow.
But the air had changed.
It was softer and warmer during the day. Spring was coming, pushing its way through the remnants of winter, and the village felt livelier because of it.
