Some time later, hydrated, waterskins full, and fully refreshed under the shade of palm trees that were harvested for slightly tough dates, the group had a breather.
The oasis changed once you weren't dying. The shade felt like an actual shelter instead of a fragile lie.
The dates were chewy, fibrous, not sweet enough to be satisfying, but sugar was sugar and energy was energy. People ate more slowly now, savoring not flavor but the fact they were chewing something that wasn't desperation.
Looking above their heads, the Fracture levels never increased; in fact, in Christy's case it dropped all the way to 29. While Garron was in the low twenties.
Kael noticed the numbers without reacting. It mattered. A stable group meant fewer knives in the back. Less paranoia. Less hunger turning into "logic."
