Dawn crept through Baro's thin wooden walls—not bursting, but seeping like spilled ink. Joseph's eyes opened to shadows and the now familiar scent of opium poppy sweetness cut with metallic tang.
The guard sat motionless in his chair, already awake. Stone-still in the dim light.
Joseph turned his head and found her.
Baro lay wrapped in blankets, curled small as a child. Her breathing came slow and even, dark lashes resting against scaled cheeks. The harsh lines of yesterday had smoothed away, leaving something almost peaceful.
Regret seemed to twist in Joseph's chest.
"She was supposed to come with us." He sighed.
The guard knew exactly why. The deer antler hunt could have been perfect—a chance for her to connect with others, to feel useful. Friendships bloomed easier when hands worked toward the same goal.
But last night had drained her. Her body needed rest, not adventure. How could anyone wake something so fragile?
