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"Another night went by in the blink of an eye," she said softly, voice clipped but full of emotion.
Zephyr held his own tin cup up and touched it to hers with a quiet clink. "Thanks to Star and Aurora we are alive."
Then he turned toward the cow, who was now eyeing him with large, soulful eyes—head lifted like a tragic heroine awaiting for her praise.
"You want a reward, huh?" he asked.
Muse blinked slowly. Then she tossed her head and snorted with a long-suffering air that clearly meant, Cheese. Will suffice.
Zephyr laughed. "Of course it will."
He ducked into the cart's side bin again, fingers fishing through their travel supplies until he pulled out the last quarter-wheel of the hard trail cheese.
It was dense, dry, and slightly cracked—aged for flavor and punishment alike.
Zephyr offered it with two hands, like a knight offering tribute to a cow queen. 🐮
