We set out again at first light. It was going to be a long day; Cain had made that clear the night before.

  Mist hung thick between the trees, low and clinging, turning the forest into something smaller and more enclosed. The world felt reduced to the narrow corridor directly ahead of us.

  Breakfast was brief and silent. Camp was dismantled quickly. Despite the weariness, we fell into rhythm once more.

  Today I found myself walking near the rear with Jenna.

  After some time, she spoke.

  “I spoke to Cain about your… explanation.”

  I waited.

  “I accept that it may be your reality,” she continued evenly. “But I find it unlikely to be the truth.”

  “What about what I told you?” I asked. “About your expedition. About the wolves.”

  “You travelled with Norman,” she replied without looking at me. “He could have told you anything.”

  Her voice held no anger. Only refusal.

  It seemed my truth was too strange to be believed.

  “Regardless,” she went on, “on this journey I expect to see only this ‘Geoff’ of yours. Drisnil is not welcome.”

  The warning was clear enough. She did not need to say what she would do if I stepped out of line.

  We walked on.

  Cain led from the front, following faint animal trails when possible. Every so often he slowed to clear a path through thicker growth. Despite the mist and the lack of landmarks, his sense of direction never faltered. We moved steadily, never circling, never hesitating.

  The children struggled at times, but no one complained. The forest felt endless, a sea of muted green and drifting silver vapour. Conversation was sparse. Jenna offered none.

  By the time dusk began to creep in, the mist thinning at last, we reached the remnants of the old goblin camp.

  The crude structures were long gone, reclaimed by rot and moss. Only a shallow semicircle of stones remained, marking where their fire had once burned. I felt a strange pull in my chest at the sight of it. So much had begun here.

  We set about making camp with practised efficiency.

  As Illara and I were securing one of the tents, Sera approached us, barely containing her grin.

  “I’ve spoken to Cain,” she said brightly. “Ash and I will take a turn gathering firewood tonight.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “I did warn him we might be… less efficient,” she added, smile widening.

  Illara snorted. “That’s fine. Just remember to actually bring wood back with you.”

  Sera giggled and darted off into the trees, Ash following close behind.

  “Do you think they’ll be all right?” I asked.

  “They won’t go far,” Illara replied. “Just far enough.”

  Faie appeared at my elbow.

  “I might assist them with their wood collection,” she announced. “I must contribute meaningfully to this developing society.”

  Illara reacted instantly, placing a firm hand on Faie’s shoulder.

  “I strongly advise against that,” she said sweetly. “Why don’t you help with their tent instead?”

  Faie frowned slightly, calculating whether this was a dismissal or a redirection.

  Faie had an uncanny ability to arrive precisely where she was least helpful.

  After a moment, she huffed. “Very well. I will supervise structural integrity.”

  Illara waited until she had turned away before leaning closer to me.

  “Last thing they need,” she murmured, “is an audience.”

  Eventually Ash and Sera returned to camp with their bundles of firewood. Both wore distinctly satisfied expressions that had very little to do with forestry.

  Cain and Jenna began preparing dinner — once again a stew of dried wolf meat stretched thin with forest foragables. It wasn’t inspiring, but after a full day’s walk, no one complained.

  When the bowls were handed out, Illara, Ash, Sera, Faie, and I settled together near the fire, grateful for warmth and the simple comfort of food.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Sera broke the quiet first.

  “Would you rather have a dog or a cat?”

  I considered it. “A cat, honestly. They’re less work. And you have to earn their respect.”

  “Indeed,” Faie added primly. “A cat is vastly superior to a canine.”

  Illara snorted softly. “Dogs are better. They can help on a hunt. And they’re easier to travel with.”

  “Yes,” Sera agreed, chewing thoughtfully. “Cats are brats. You feed them and they just sleep all day.”

  Ash nodded firmly beside her.

  “Well of course you agree,” I said with a grin. “You’re worried if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be sharing a bed tonight.”

  Ash gave me an exaggerated look of offense.

  “No,” Sera replied quickly, slipping her arm around him. “He’s simply intelligent enough to recognise dogs are superior.”

  “Take that back,” Faie said sharply. “Dogs are needy creatures who roll in carrion and eat things best left unnamed.”

  “That is an exaggeration,” Illara countered. “They’re loyal.”

  “I think,” I said diplomatically, “it comes down to taste. They both have advantages. But a friendly cat curled in your lap by a fire? That’s difficult to improve upon.”

  Illara’s expression softened slightly. “That would be nice. But it’s rare. Nearly every dog will adore you immediately.”

  “In that case,” I said, “why not have both?”

  Illara brightened. “Yes. When we settle somewhere properly, we’ll get one of each.”

  Sera looked sceptical. Faie looked faintly horrified.

  Sensing the beginnings of a genuine catfight, I shifted the subject.

  “How’s your research going, Faie?”

  Her posture straightened immediately. “Exceptionally well. I should be able to summon a cat familiar within days.”

  “Oh?” I smiled. “You’ll have to introduce me.”

  “I intend to,” she said, chin lifting proudly.

  After dinner, Illara and I settled down for the night. I was on second watch, which meant a few uninterrupted hours before I had to be awake again. We took full advantage and retired early. Thankfully Faie had first watch, so we were unlikely to be disturbed.

  Illara lay with her back against my chest, my arm draped securely around her waist. The fire’s warmth barely reached us now, but she was warm enough on her own.

  “I think I’m enjoying this camping trip,” she said softly. “It feels… novel. Being out in the wild with so many people.”

  “I’m enjoying it too,” I replied. “Though I’m grateful we don’t have to walk tomorrow.”

  She sniggered quietly. “Cain mentioned digging. And construction. I suspect tomorrow will be worse.”

  I groaned into her shoulder, burying my face in her back. “One day, I would love to simply exist. No marching. No fighting. No digging. Just… nothing.”

  She shifted slightly to lace her fingers with mine where my hand rested at her stomach.

  “When we get back,” she said, voice lighter now, “we’ll do exactly that. Together.”

  The thought settled warmly between us.

  It wasn’t long before sleep claimed us both.

  The next day was, as promised, hard work.

  Every adult in the group was occupied: cutting trees, digging post holes, hauling timber, shaping a rough palisade from the forest itself. The reasoning was sound. If we were going to hide here for two weeks, we needed something defensible.

  That did not mean I had to enjoy it.

  I stood over a tree Cain had marked earlier, axe in hand, bringing it down again and again into the same growing notch. Each strike jarred through my shoulders and down into my wrists. My palms were already blistered, the skin tender and raw from hours of repetition.

  Progress felt painfully slow.

  Chips of wood flew with each impact, scattering at my boots. Sweat gathered at my temples despite the cool air. My arms burned.

  Then, finally, there was a sharp crack from deep within the trunk.

  I stepped back quickly as the tree gave way, groaning as it fell, branches snapping against neighbouring trunks before crashing to the forest floor.

  I moved in again with the axe, trimming limbs from the fallen tree. Some branches separated cleanly; others required several determined swings before they gave way.

  Cain intended to use the thicker logs for the palisade wall and the branches sharpened into spikes. I wasn’t entirely convinced we would be attacked out here, but he was. And Cain was rarely careless.

  Each branch I removed I sorted into piles by size. Every now and then Faie would appear, wordless, and drag off an armful for further shaping. The children were busy too, carving points into the thinner pieces under Jenna’s supervision.

  No one was idle.

  By mid-afternoon my arms felt like they no longer belonged to me.

  Cain approached, surveying the cleared patch of ground.

  “That’s enough for now, Drisnil,” he said. “Would you be able to try and hunt something? Fresh meat would do wonders for morale.”

  Hunting.

  The word alone felt like relief.

  “Gladly,” I said. “No promises on what we’ll find, though. May I borrow Illara?”

  Cain nodded. “That’s fine. Just don’t be gone too long. I’d like something cooking before dark.”

  I found Illara near the forming wall, knee-deep in a freshly dug post hole, wrestling with stubborn earth.

  “Fancy a break?” I asked.

  She looked up at once, dirt smudged along her cheek, eyes bright despite the exhaustion. “Do I ever. What are you proposing?”

  “Cain wants us to hunt.”

  Her grin was immediate. “Yes.”

  She abandoned the shovel without hesitation and reached for her bow. I retrieved my blades and cloak from where I had left them earlier.

  As we prepared to leave, she ran her fingers along the fabric of my cloak, then down to my boots.

  “I am wildly jealous of these,” she admitted. “It must make stalking so much easier.”

  “It does,” I said. “Want to try?”

  Her face lit up like a child offered a festival sweet. “Yes. Please.”

  I slipped off my boots and handed them to her along with the cloak. She pulled them on eagerly, fastening them with careful attention, then draped the cloak over her shoulders. The fabric settled around her as if it approved.

  I stepped into her boots instead. Fortunately, they fit well enough.

  She shifted her weight experimentally, testing the magic, eyes widening slightly at how quietly she moved.

  “This is incredible,” she breathed.

  We left camp together, Illara almost glowing with excitement at the chance to wear enchanted gear for the first time.

  Behind us, the sound of axes and digging faded.