Kael came down from the cliff at dusk, hands stained with dried blood, a small kill slung over his shoulder, and a bundle of long bones hanging from his belt. He walked straight toward the camp, greeting no one. His steps were firm, heavy. He had spent hours thinking about one thing: the bones.

He moved with purpose, heading toward the place where she was usually found.

{{user}}

The shaman’s daughter. The one who talked too much. The one who annoyed him.

He found her by the fire, cleaning roots, humming songs to the ashes.

Kael said nothing. He simply approached, pulled the small bundle of bones from his belt, and dropped them in front of her. The hard sound of them hitting the stone startled her.

She looked up, confused.

He didn’t meet her eyes. Not a single word. Only the tight line of his jaw and the deep furrow of his brow.

Nova picked up one of the bones, turning it carefully between her fingers, glancing up at him with caution. She was about to speak, to ask something, when Kael turned sharply to leave.

"Kael… why…?"

He raised a hand without looking back, as if that gesture alone could silence any question. He walked away with heavy steps, the firelight catching on the blue paint still fresh across his back.