Genevieve's POV
The morning arrived with a cool, gray fog that hung low over the grass.
It was the kind of heavy morning that made everything in the world feel muted and distant, like the forest itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to break the quiet.
I sat on a mossy, fallen log right at the very edge of the dirt clearing, wrapping my woolen shawl tightly around my shoulders as I watched them pack.
A few yards away, Liona moved quickly between the wooden carriage and a pile of leather travel bags.
Her long black hair was pulled back into a tight, practical knot, and her movements were sharp and efficient as she swung a heavy trunk up into the storage rack.
Azura stood right beside her.
She still looked entirely too thin, her skin pale under the gray sky, but she was visibly stronger than she had been yesterday.
She reached down, lifted a smaller satchel, and handed it to Torin, who was busy tying down the straps.
