The camp was silent except for the fire.
Gabriel sat with his back against a tree, watching the flames. His companions spread around him in a loose circle. Mera tended a shallow cut on Ennu's arm. Gilbert sharpened his spear, the rhythmic scrape of stone on metal steady and familiar. Adan stood watch at the treeline, scanning the darkness.
Tess sat close to Gabriel. Not touching, but close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her.
No one had spoken since they'd made camp two hours ago.
Gabriel's hand moved to the hilt of his sword. Not drawing it, just needing the familiar grip.
"We should talk about what happened," Tess said quietly.
Gilbert's whetstone paused. Mera's hands stilled. Adan didn't turn from his watch, but his shoulders tensed.
Gabriel didn't respond immediately. He watched the fire, tracking the patterns in the flames.
The red smoke spreading like fog. Her soldiers standing perfectly still. Those crimson eyes that mirrored his own.
