•Thunoa's East Forest•
Philip's POV
A deep, familiar grumble echoed from my stomach. I tugged gently on the reins, bringing my horse and wagon to a creaking halt. I hopped down, my boots sinking slightly into the soft loam, the cloth-wrapped lunch Mrs. Melinda had pressed into my hands feeling warm and heavy, a tangible piece of the home I'd just left.
I found a sturdy oak, its gnarled roots creating a natural seat, and sank to the ground with a soft groan, leaning my back against the rough, furrowed bark. untying the knotted cloth released a fragrant cloud of steam. The aroma of roasted herbs, fresh-baked bread, and spiced meat made my saliva flood instantly. Inside, golden-brown pastries nestled beside thick slices of honey-glazed ham and roasted potatoes still gleaming with fat—a final, delicious testament to Thunoa's kindness.
