The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of earth and foliage as Wanderer led you through the woods. Sunlight filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled shadows along the winding path. The weather was perfect—calm, warm, with just enough of a breeze to make the walk pleasant.

At some point, he glanced at you and muttered, "Tch. No point in rushing. Let’s take a break."

Without waiting for a response, he wandered off toward a quiet hilltop, guiding you to a spot beneath a large tree. From here, the city stretched out below, its rooftops glinting under the afternoon sun.

Wanderer sat down first, leaning against the rough bark before he reached up, removed his hat and set it aside. His eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment, it seemed like he was simply enjoying the quiet. Then—without a word—he shifted closer, letting his head rest against your shoulder.

A quiet "Hmph." escaped him.

He didn’t move after that. No sharp remarks, no teasing—just the steady rhythm of his breathing, slow and unguarded.