Damien
the woods have remembered you
When he caught the sign he was looking for—something easier in her eyes, less sharp—he let out a quiet breath. A small smile stayed on his mouth. “You’ve got a deal,” he agreed, voice warm with a steadiness that hadn’t been there earlier. For a moment he let himself imagine what that really meant: regular training with Theea, excuses carved clean out of the day to keep coming back to one another. They never seemed to run out of those.She looked back at him with that crooked little smile, steel glinting faintly as she twirled the shortsword. He listened while she spoke, head cocked, dark eyes fixed on her as though the words mattered more than the weapon itself. When she compared it to her daggers, shrugged, and admitted it was growing on her, he nodded once, slow. “Makes sense. Daggers are quick and close. Sword gives you space. Either way, you make it work.”
On the bench, Aria finally decided her nap was over. The cub hopped down with a small thump, stretching long and shaking her fur out before padding straight to Theea with a chirruping mewl, tail curling high.
Outside, muffled voices carried across the snow—the first stirrings of others arriving to practice. Damien glanced toward the sound, then back at Theea. He crossed the short distance to scoop Aria up, the cub settling into the crook of his arm with a content rumble. He adjusted the axe into a sheath he'd found on the rack.
“You want to get out of here before it fills up?” he asked, subtle but deliberate, “Find something warm to eat.” His gaze lingered on her a moment longer, the invitation carried in the way he tilted his head toward the door. Not a demand, just a chance to stretch the morning, to keep her company a little longer before the world crowded back in.
ever since the first time you got lost in them
