One evening, while repairing a broken cart wheel, he overheard a conversation between Rox and Jett. They were discussing the upcoming battle with the rogue Alpha, a battle that seemed almost certain to result in a great many casualties. He felt a prickle of fear, not just for them, but also for the villagers who relied on them for protection. His heart hammered against his ribs; he was usually a man of unwavering resolve but this time, he felt the weight of his responsibility.
He was a blacksmith, a maker of tools, a mender of broken things. He wasn’t a warrior. Yet, he found himself wishing he could fight alongside them, to share their burden, to offer any help he could. This unexpected surge of loyalty, this feeling of kinship, shook him. It was a completely unfamiliar emotion, this sen
