Chapter 129: Moment to Breathe Part 2
As the afternoon sun tilted westward, long shadows crept across the clearing. The laughter didn’t stop, but it mellowed—like the warmth of the day had begun to sink into everyone’s bones. There was a calm, rare and precious, that settled over the group like a warm blanket.
Inigo walked the edge of the field, taking quiet stock. The air smelled of moss, cider, and smoke. Not gunpowder. Not sweat or oil. Just clean, living earth.
He stopped near the tree where Meryl sat cross-legged, sketching with surprising focus. Her charcoal lines traced the curve of the treeline, with faint outlines of JLTVs behind the picnic setup.
"You draw?" he asked.
Meryl looked up, startled, then nodded. "My older brother taught me. Before he left."
"Soldier?"
"Hunter," she said. "Didn’t come back from the Wyrmwoods."
Inigo said nothing for a moment. "You’ve got an eye. Keep sketching. Even if war comes—it’s good to remember what peace looks like."
She blinked at that. "Yes, Instructor."
But her hand trembled just slightly as she went back to drawing.
Not far off, Hal and Feron had built a small throwing range using stacked logs. They were competing to see who could toss small river stones closest to a wooden cup without knocking it over. Lio cheered each near miss like it was a festival game.