[Veltharr — The Broken Rock — Terrace — 4:00 PM]
The afternoon had that specific late‑winter light that doesn't warm but doesn't bother either — it just exists, horizontal and golden, making everything seem quieter than it is.
The team on the inn's terrace.
No mission. No urgent map. No immediate objective.
Just the afternoon and the table and what remained of the midday meal that no one had finished clearing.
Emily with Luna partially materialized beside her — the unicorn on the spiritual plane but with her light visible, as she always did when Emily was relaxed.
Kira cleaning arrows. The repaired bow leaning against the chair beside her, the blacksmith's work visible on the upper‑end reinforcement.
Raven with her eyes closed and the expression of someone who is asleep but would wake up in a second if anything in the environment changed.
Maya with the map — always the map — but without the urgency of calculating. Just reading it the way others read a book for pleasure.
