My mind wants to spiral into self-recrimination—cataloging all the ways I failed today, how I couldn't even manage a simple scavenger hunt without falling apart. But Falla's presence beside me disrupts those thoughts before they can fully form, his steady silence somehow more grounding than reassurances would be.
The sounds of the settlement reach us before the visual—voices raised in celebration or competition, the clatter of returned tokens being counted, Ursik's distinctive laugh booming above the general noise.
My stomach clenches reflexively but I push through it, following Falla as we emerge from the tree line into the gathering area.
The scene that greets us radiates victory. Ursik stands near the center, arms raised triumphantly while a young female guard beside him matches his enthusiasm with competitive fervor. Her grin stretches wide, all satisfaction and accomplishment.
"Ten serpents!" Ursik's voice carries across the entire space. "Count them and weep, you slow bastards!"
Other pairs mill around, some looking annoyed, others amused. Kai and Saela stand off to one side, their collection of tokens respectable but clearly not enough to compete with Ursik's haul.
Falla approaches the gathering without hesitation, his expression unchanged from its usual neutral assessment. If he feels any disappointment about our early return or failure to complete the challenge, it doesn't show.
"Congratulations," he says to Ursik, the word delivered with the same clinical precision he uses for medical diagnoses.
Ursik's grin somehow widens further. "Don't sound so devastated by our victory, Falla. Your face might crack from all that emotion."
"I'll risk it."
The young guard—I think her name is Kerra—laughs at the exchange, her competitive energy barely contained. "We dominated this challenge. Absolutely dominated."
"Clearly." Falla pulls our collected tokens from his pouch, adding them to the general pile without fanfare. Four serpents to their ten. Not even close to competitive.
Ursik's attention shifts to me briefly, something like concern flickering across his features before he buries it under more celebration. "Better luck next time, Little Bird. Though you picked a good partner—Falla's just slow because he's old."
"I'm younger than you."
"Age is a state of mind." Ursik waves dismissively. "And your mind is ancient."
Falla doesn't dignify that with response, instead turning to gesture toward the edge of the gathering. Away from the crowd. Toward quieter space.
I follow gratefully, relieved to escape the press of bodies and noise. We settle on the same fallen log from yesterday—apparently this is becoming our designated retreat location.
The celebration continues behind us, Ursik's voice periodically rising above the general noise as he recounts their victory with increasing dramatic embellishment. Other pairs compare their hauls, discuss strategy, replay moments from the hunt.
Normal competition. Normal celebration. Nothing threatening about any of it.
But my body still holds residual tension, muscles wound tight from the panic attack and the effort of walking back. I focus on breathing, on the solid wood beneath me, on the fact that I made it through today even if I didn't make it through successfully.
Falla sits beside me in silence, not pushing for conversation or explanation. Just existing in the same space, a fixed point I can orient around.
Eventually, the gathering begins to disperse as people return to their evening routines. Saela appears at some point, her approach careful and telegraphed so I can track her movement before she gets close.
"I'm heading back home," she says, her voice pitched low enough not to carry. "You need anything?"
I shake my head, not trusting my voice yet.
She studies me for a moment—cataloging the same symptoms Falla probably already noted—before nodding. "Come find me tomorrow if you want company."
The offer comes without pressure, just availability. I appreciate that more than I can articulate.
After Saela leaves, Falla rises from the log with economical grace. "I'll check on you tomorrow."
It's not a question, but I answer anyway. "Okay."
He nods once before heading toward his own quarters, leaving me alone with the gathering dusk and my tangled thoughts.
The knockon my cabin door comes after darkness has fully settled, soft enough to be polite but firm enough to be heard. I know it's Saela before I open it—she has a distinctive rhythm to her knocking that differs from Falla's clinical efficiency.
