Fog descended slowly, as if unwilling to disturb yet present with cold arrogance. Sienna stopped at the edge of the forest, gazing at the wide lake stretching before her. Its surface was covered in a thin gray veil—no waves, no cries of waterbirds, only a stillness that felt too perfect for something wild.
Kaelen stood several steps ahead, shoulders straight. He was not merely looking; he was measuring—distance, width, wind direction, even the hidden position of the sun behind the mist. Sienna watched the subtle movement along his jaw as he calculated in silence, then stepped closer so she could read his lips if necessary.
"Around?" she asked, her voice breaking the quiet.
Kaelen turned slightly, ensuring his face was fully visible to her. He had grown accustomed to positioning himself so she could read him clearly.
"A week," he said, articulating each word without rushing.
Sienna nodded in understanding. She pointed toward the water. "Through here?"
Kaelen looked back at the lake. "A day. If the current is kind."
He did not rush the final word. By the fifth day of their journey, he understood how much clarity mattered.
Old tracks marked the muddy shoreline—deep impressions of large claws. Sienna crouched, touching the dried earth, then lifted two fingers to indicate something tall and heavy.
Kaelen lowered himself slightly so she could read him. "Old," he said.
She noticed the change. Back in the village, people often spoke while turning their faces away, leaving her to guess. Kaelen never did. He always made sure his words reached her. She never commented on it, but she kept that quiet kindness close to her heart.
They found an old boat wedged between the roots of a large tree. The wood was dark and cracked in places, but the hull appeared intact. Kaelen pressed his palm against the planks, pushing and shaking to test their strength.
"Enough," he said at last when Sienna approached. "Enough not to sink immediately."
For her, that was more than sufficient.
Before pushing it into the water, Kaelen glanced at Sienna's pack and took it without asking. He removed what he deemed unnecessary—an extra whetstone, part of the grain supply.
"We share. Your stride is shorter," he added, a practical explanation for lightening her load.
They began rowing into the fog.
The water seemed calm, but Kaelen never trusted surfaces.
"Watch the current, not the surface," he reminded her.
Sienna narrowed her eyes, searching for what he saw. Without realizing it, Kaelen slowed his speech again when giving instructions. At last, she noticed it—a thin shifting line beneath the surface, like something breathing.
An undercurrent.
Suddenly, the boat trembled as it entered a turning pull of water. Kaelen rose halfway to steady their balance, still facing Sienna so she would not lose direction. They rowed hard against the invisible force until their arms burned, and at last the boat scraped against shore.
When her boots touched land, Sienna realized she had been holding her breath.
Kaelen secured the boat and turned fully toward her. "Are you all right?"
She nodded firmly. "I didn't fall."
The corner of his mouth moved faintly, almost a smile. "Do not make that the standard," he replied.
But the trial was not over.
They still had to climb a short stone incline coated in thin moss. Kaelen went first, searching for stable footing. When it was Sienna's turn, the third stone shifted beneath her step.
Her foot slipped.
Kaelen moved without thinking.
He did not catch her hand.
He caught her waist.
His grip was firm, lifting her slightly until her footing steadied again. For a moment, the world narrowed. They stood too close. Sienna could see the faint scar near his brow, could feel the uneven rhythm of his breath.
Kaelen became aware of the unintended closeness. His hand tensed before he withdrew it quickly.
"Your stride is shorter," he said quietly, as if that explained everything.
He turned and climbed the rest of the incline with movements that felt suddenly stiff.
---
Night fell quickly as they set camp on level ground.
Sienna lit the small fire while Kaelen watched without stepping in—a quiet acknowledgment that she was capable. They ate smoked meat and dry bread in silence. Kaelen mentioned they would hunt the next day.
Sienna touched the blue scarf around her neck, feeling warmth that went beyond the cold air. She had begun to notice that Kaelen always spoke more slowly when facing her.
As the night deepened, Sienna fell asleep.
Kaelen did not.
Memories returned in fragments—rain, the scent of iron, a hand he had failed to hold.
He woke with a restrained breath in the darkness of the forest. Beside him, Sienna shifted in her sleep. Without knowing it, her fingertips brushed his arm.
Kaelen froze.
But he did not move away.
He allowed the contact to remain for a moment before gently pulling the blanket higher over her shoulder.
When they walked again the next morning, the distance between them had changed. Not far. Not close.
But close enough to reach.
Beneath the lingering fog, something between them began to move—like the undercurrent of the lake. Invisible on the surface, yet real and deep.
---