The morning mist hung low over Delwig's outer walls, pale and silvery, curling around the fortress like smoke from an unseen fire.
The city or at least some people from the city hadn't yet shaken off the echoes of last night's discovery — the revelation that the guards had been impostors, infiltrators wearing human faces.
The whole garrison was uneasy, moving with the wary rhythm of people who'd learned their walls could bleed.
Arielle stood in the courtyard beside Lyone, the both of them ready for departure. The air smelled of wet earth and iron, faint from the rain that had swept through before dawn.
"I still can't believe we're being sent out again," Lyone muttered, adjusting the straps of his pack. "Feels like we just got back."
Arielle smirked faintly. "That's because you're still thinking like a civilian. In the field, there's no such thing as rest."
Lyone groaned softly. "Then I'm starting to think I picked the wrong big brother to follow."
