The sun rose slow and deliberate over the treetops, stretching long shadows across the square like fingers not quite ready to let go of the night. Already the air pressed close—thick with the breathless hush that came before a midsummer scorch. The last scraps of coolness fled from the stones beneath his feet, retreating into cracks and corners as the heat gathered its weight. Birds darted and squirrels rustled through the underbrush, quick with their chores, as if they knew that the day would soon grow too heavy to move in.
Collin stepped into the silent square just as Dragonfly appeared at the far end. She hadn’t seen him yet.
He took off running. The slap of his boots on sun-warmed stone echoed sharp in the stillness, drawing her gaze.
She paused and waited, one foot lifted mid-step like she might take flight. The bow and quiver over her shoulder gave her the look of a storybook huntress, though Collin could never decide if she belonged more to myth or to morning light. In one hand, she held two empty burlap sacks, but even those seemed somehow charmed in her grip. Her blouse was loose and white, catching the breeze like a sail—soft and secretive, veiling the shape of her with a kind of grace that made his chest ache. The brown work skirt clung to her legs, meant for brambles and thorns, but on her it looked far finer.
Collin smiled as he caught up to her. "Good morning!"
"Oh, hi. How did you do last night?”
Collin snorted. “I heroically spared all the targets. Call it an act of mercy.”
Dragonfly stifled her giggle. “Sorry I missed it. Perhaps sometime...”
Just then, Arion came sprinting into the square from another road, arms flailing like he had urgent news to declare. “Wait up!”
Annoyance flared—hot and quick—through Collin’s chest. The moment had been delicate, balanced like a petal on water—and now it was crushed underfoot. He glanced back at Dragonfly, trying to catch whatever thread had been unraveling between them.
“What were you saying?”
She only shrugged, gaze already drifting as Arion caught up. The spark was gone.
The trio headed for the hospital. On the front steps, Hadria stood with Aries and Lekyi, framed by pillars and sunlight.
Collin clapped Lekyi on the shoulder in greeting. Lekyi answered with the easy strength of old friendship.
Lekyi had always been the golden one—handsome, with a voice like wind over strings and a way of speaking that made people lean in without realizing it. What set him apart, though, wasn’t charm or looks—it was the mind behind it all. He wasn’t born into anything grand. No titles, no powerful relatives whispering favors into the right ears. But still, he rose—fast and clean, by sheer force of will. Grit, brilliance, endless hours burned away behind closed doors. Somehow, he didn’t just lift himself—he pulled his whole family upward with him, like a tide that refused to stay low.
Collin admired him for that. Not just for what he’d done, but for how easy he made it all look. All anyone needed was to listen closely at any dinner table, any gathering of ambitious mothers,and they’d hear his name spoken like a hope—soft, eager, almost reverent.
Collin adjusted a heavy bundle of rope on his shoulder. He eyed Aries’s bandaged hand. "So, what’s the diagnosis?"
"It’s just a sprain. I shall fight another day," Aries said as he glared fiercely at Arion.
Hadria grabbed a spear that was propped against the wall. She thrust the weapon in Arion’s direction. "We need to get going. I have things to do after we are finished with the boar hunt."
“I set a few traps yesterday in preparation,” Lekyi said, hopping lightly down from the steps.
He moved to Dragonfly’s side with the kind of ease that made it look rehearsed. Without a word, she lifted her arm for him. He began rolling up the sleeves of her blouse, his touch brisk but familiar.
Collin glanced toward the hospital doors. The entryway stood open, shadows pooling across the tile inside.
“Where’s River? He said he’d bring his dogs.”
“He isn’t in there,” Hadria answered, barely looking up.
“River told Aries and me he’d join us today.”
“Maybe he changed his mind,” Arion offered.
“He would’ve told one of us,” Lekyi said, and his voice held something taut—concern pulling at the edges.
“Go on ahead,” Aries said, clapping Collin’s shoulder. “We’ll check Greenswood for him. I’m sure he’s just running late.”
The group nodded. Collin handed off their rope, wire traps, and other supplies. As the others started down the road, he watched Dragonfly from the corner of his eye.
Just before they rounded the bend, he caught it—Lekyi slinging an arm casually over her shoulders. Dragonfly leaned in and whispered close to his ear. Whatever she said, they burst into laughter together, easy and unbothered.
