the Doomlaws Guild sat around the table, their bodies exhausted from the long and grueling mission they had just completed. Dirt and blood stained their clothes, but for now, all they cared about was the simple meal in front of them. The room was quiet, save for the clink of utensils and the occasional grunt as they ate their meager meal of stale bread, salted meat, and whatever else they had managed to scrounge.

The silence was often interrupted by the loud chewing of Lute and Luc, the ten-year-old twins, who were devouring their food with an enthusiasm that seemed to echo in the otherwise hushed room. Trion, the eldest and the guild's leader, glanced at them with a raised brow.

“Lute, Luc,” he said in his usual calm but firm tone, “could you two chew a little quieter?”

The twins instantly quieted, exchanging guilty smiles, but the silence remained until Helirose, the mischievous siren, decided to break it.

“Why do melons have weddings?” he asked with a gleam in his eye, knowing full well what was coming.

The guild had grown used to his terrible jokes by now. Sketch, the aerion, let out a dramatic sigh, already bracing himself for the punchline. Lyall, always up for a bad joke, smirked and leaned forward, asking, “Why?”

“They cantelope,” Helirose answered with a smug grin, clearly pleased with himself.

The group groaned collectively. Trion rolled his eyes, Luc and Lute exchanged exaggerated sighs, and Sketch muttered under his breath. But Lyall, who could never resist a good (or bad) joke, burst into laughter, her bright and genuine laugh echoing through the room.

Her laughter was contagious. Lauren, perched on the edge of the table, let out a soft cawing chuckle, followed by the others. Even Zorya, the quiet moth hybrid, couldn’t help but smile faintly as he watched his guildmates share this rare moment of joy. Trion, despite his initial disapproval, allowed a small smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. Even Sketch, who tried to hold back, let out a soft laugh, shaking his head in resignation.