The arrow sliced through the wind and landed with a clean thud, burying itself into the soft flank of the dummy chappa Rex had strung together from reeds and moss. Lyra lowered her bow and let out a long, shaky breath. Not perfect, but close.
Saraya gave a whistle of appreciation. “You’re getting dangerous, girly,” she said, elbowing Lyra as she walked past to retrieve her own arrows.
Lyra smirked. “I’m working on it.”
They all were. Every day brought a little more confidence—more steady hands, quicker aim, tighter communication in the field. Lyra could feel it in her muscles, in the way her body moved instinctively now, especially when they worked as a team. Simon had stopped cracking jokes in the middle of tense moments. Lexi had learned to read tracks better than any of them. Even Rex had stopped charging in without thinking. Usually.
It felt…good. Earned.
When Hassian had told them they were ready to start crafting better bows and proper hunting arrows, it had felt like graduation day. He didn’t say much—not more than usual—but he’d offered quiet nods of approval and careful instruction. Told them how to shape the shafts, what to use for fletching, where to look for the right wood.
Afterward, they’d planned it. Bahari Bay.
Just the name stirred something in Lyra—excitement and a sliver of fear. Everyone knew it was wilder than Killima. Less forgiving. But they were ready.
The group packed for a two-day trip, mostly foraging and tracking. No deep dives. They kept it smart. And it was…exhilarating. A step into the unknown, rough terrain and ocean wind whipping through their hair, the sense that they were becoming real hunters.
But when Lyra returned home late on the second day, tired and happy, and saw the quiet of her little cabin, she was hit with a strange ache. She hadn’t seen Tau in two days. Or Hassian. She’d meant to stop by before they left, to mention something—but they were prepping, and the morning had flown by.
She was still hanging her pack on the wall when the knock came. A sharp, single thunk against the door. Firm, not urgent. But her heart picked up a beat. Hassian stood there in the dusk, gold light edging his silhouette. His clothes were travel-worn, hair a little wind-mussed. In one hand, a wrapped bundle.
Tau padded forward from behind him, tail wagging slow and steady.
“Hi,” Lyra said, surprised and warm. “I wasn’t expecting—”
“You were gone.”
His voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it she didn’t quite understand.
“Yeah. We took our first trip to Bahari. Overnight. Just got back an hour ago.”
He nodded once. “I figured something was up when you weren’t in town or around the guild shack.”
A pause. Then more awkwardly, “You usually stop by.”
Her lips tugged into a smile. “I didn’t mean to vanish on you. Things got busy. You know… packing too much, forgetting half of it anyway.”
“I brought you something.” He held out the bundle.
She unwrapped it slowly. A sandwich—still warm. Her chest tightened. Of all the people in the world, Hassian was the last she expected to think of her this way. “You… brought me food?”
He shrugged like it was nothing, but his jaw was tight. “I figured you might not have eaten yet.”
“I haven’t,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
They stood quiet for a moment. Tau nudged her hand, and she crouched to scratch behind his ears. “We did okay out there,” she offered, glancing up at Hassian. “No injuries. Lexi fell in a creek, but that’s standard.”
He didn’t smile, but his shoulders loosened.
“You shouldn't go out there without telling someone,” he said. “Bahari’s different. Things happen.”
“We were careful.”
“I believe you. But still…
” She straightened and met his eyes, serious now. “I guess I didn’t think you’d notice.”
He looked away, toward the trees. “Tau noticed.”
Lyra summoned all her courage, and jumped in the deep end. “And you?”
A pause. Then, softly: “I’d appreciate a heads up next time. So he doesn’t wait. So… I don’t.”
The words were simple, but they hit harder than she expected. He wasn’t just talking about Tau. Lyra held that weight for a moment, then nodded. “Deal.”
She wanted to say more—something teasing, maybe even corny—but for once, she didn’t need to. Something had already shifted. Just a sliver. But real.
“Get some rest,” he said, stepping back. “You look tired.”
She watched him go until Tau trotted after him, tail swishing. The sandwich warm in her hands. She let out a quiet sigh, smiling softly at the small, unexpected moment.

Hassian’s Thoughts

He hadn’t meant to go. He’d told himself he was just walking the perimeter, just checking the village’s edge.
But somehow his feet had taken him to her cabin.
When she opened the door and he saw she was fine—tired, but unharmed—something unclenched in his chest he hadn’t even known was there.
He’d brought the sandwich because she was always feeding him. Maybe it meant something. Maybe he hoped she’d understand: now he was feeding her too.
The look in her eyes when he said he’d waited—he wouldn’t forget that.
He told himself it was nothing. Just habit. Just vigilance. But the way the world steadied when she opened the door—that wasn’t nothing, no matter how hard he tried to name it otherwise. Next time, he’d be tracking them. He needed to know she was safe. That was all he’d admit—for now.