Mavena made it two steps before the world caught up with her. The inn's bread-and-hearth air had swapped for open garden in a single stride, her stomach arrived a half-second behind the rest of her, and she stopped dead, knuckles whitening on the straps of her pack while her eyes tried to be everywhere at once.
"That's..." Her voice came out younger than she'd have liked. She cleared it and tried again, aiming for professional. "Portals are normal for you now. Okay. Noted."
The pack deserved its own introduction. It towered over her shoulders, expedition-grade, bedroll and coiled rope and two full rows of potion loops, provisions for a fortnight strapped to a hunt scheduled to end by lunch. She had packed it herself and refused all commentary at the inn, reportedly.
Lyra stepped forward and offered one hand for it, a silent, practical courtesy aimed at the girl.
