Zane
The fire was only glowing embers when the girl finally let her head sink into sleep. The air inside the tent was quiet, and the gray light of the outside sky seeped through the gaps in the canvas like a muted, breathing glow. From outside came the slow, deep sounds of the camp. Men murmuring, horses shifting, the dull rush of the river nearby. Yet it all felt distant. As if the whole world were holding its breath, watching someone finally sleep who had not dared to close her eyes in peace for months.
I stayed.
I did not lie down. I did not sleep.
I just sat in the half light and watched her.
My body still carried the weight of the day. My nerves, woven together for years by war and loss, were under a different kind of tension now. Not blood. Not anger. But the kind of patience a
