Danielle settled onto the ground near the fire, the packed earth still warm beneath her palms. The flames crackled softly, throwing slow, flickering light across the clearing. Shadows stretched and shifted against the tree trunks, no longer sharp or threatening, just long and familiar.
Around her, conversation murmured in low threads, overlapping and fading, the sound of people trying to return to normal after something that had been anything but.
Rose knelt by the fire, focused and efficient. She tipped the contents of a cloth bag into the pot hanging over the flames. Pasta slid in first, pale and dry, followed by a mix of crushed herbs and strips of dried meat that smelled rich and savory as soon as they hit the heat. Rose stirred with a practiced hand, steam rising and curling into t
