“Pyro.”
Ah.
That’s right.
In the game, part of his routine involved patrolling the entirety of Gem Ridge’s map, every single day. Learning that schedule was exhausting. But I did it. Because anything worth doing is worth doing obsessively.
Slinging his pack into place, Samson heaves a breath. “I can’t stress enough how important it will be to stay close to me once we’re in the city. I haven’t been there for years, but even back then, it was crowded. The last thing I want is for us to get separated.”
Were he anyone else, I’d suggest we hold hands. But unlike with Slate in the Mystic Forest, I might combust if I attempt to verbalize that request to Samson.
I’ve been falling asleep to the memory of him cuddling me on the couch every night—as a method of desensitizing myself in an effort to obtain future cuddles—but I still can’t recall the sensation of his lips against my neck without overheating. So, I say, “I’ll stay close.”
“Okay.” He visibly fortifies himself. “Lia will handle the animals…we’ll be back tomorrow afternoon…then we’ll prepare for the Sky Dungeon and rescuing these puppies of yours.”
I’m so stoked that my puppies are in view. I’vealwayswanted a pet, but my parents treated me like one, and I could barely afford to take care of myself after I moved out, so having a pet has never been in view before.
A second after my spike of puppy excitement dulls, it occurs to me that Samson—the man whoinsistedI go to bed at a stupid time last night so I could be up at a stupid time this morning—is stalling.
“Samson?” I broach. “Are you okay?”
He looks back at me, and tension works its way out of his body.
It’s beautiful, the way he unwinds as our eyes meet. The gentleness that takes hold of him makes my heart trip over itself in a lame, futile effort to reach him.
His arm lifting beckons, so I go to him. He cups my cheek, then kisses my forehead. “I don’t like people,” he murmurs against my skin.
“I hadn’t noticed.”
A wry smile lifts one corner of his mouth. “I think it’ll be easier with you there.”
I nod. “Because I’ll obliterate anyone who’s mean to you with my sparkly sword.”
“Murder ishighlydiscouraged,” he says through his smile.
He remains smiling as he, unprompted, takes my hand and leads me outside.
Due to the resulting static in my brain, I miss the trek across fields, around the outskirts of town, and toward the main road leading beyond the glen harboring Gem Ridge. It’s only when the trees break to reveal a rolling expanse that I look up off Samson’s stable grip.
This world…it’s…
Vast.
Incredible.
Scathed.
Muddy paths leave scars across the land. The same river that cuts through Gem Ridge and overflowed onto half of Samson’s and my farms stretches into the distance, bank worn away so badly the water it now holds looks more like a trickling creek.
“Will the city be okay?” I whisper, squeezing Samson’s hand.
Stern, he nods, pointing at a hill in the distance. “It was built on elevated land with few trees around. Worst case, it suffered some wind damage and the pumps that brought water in to the reservoir needed repairs, but we’re far enough out from the storm now it should be all right.”
I hope so.
Now that I’m staying with Samson and a few rain showers have washed the mud off the grass and buildings, I can almost pretend a devastating storm didn’t rewrite the terrain in Gem Ridge. After all, it’s classic farm sim MO to have debris scattered around.
That’s normal.
