The morning air carried the scent of warm pine and river mud as Elara stepped out of the healer's hut. Maara sat on a low bench just outside the door, a thin blanket across her legs, watching the camp with clear eyes.
Two of the recovered hunters had come to speak with her at first light. Their voices stayed low, respectful. When they left, both men moved with the easy roll of shoulders that belonged to people who had shifted recently and still felt the residual strength in their limbs.
Felix joined Elara with two cups of the bitter tea. "She's stronger today. She asked to walk to the river this afternoon if the heat stays mild."
"We'll go with her," Elara said. "But we will keep a short distance. No farther than the second terrace."
Thorne crossed the open ground from the new storage hall, wiping sawdust from his hands. A thin cut marked one knuckle where a tool had slipped. He nodded to Maara, then to Elara.
