Kael slumped against the creaking bench, the dawn light barely slicing through the dense fog of The Hollow. His fingers drummed against his thigh, the rhythm erratic, matching his simmering frustration. The streets were quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of early risers. He could feel the weight of exhaustion in his limbs, but his mind was far from still.
"Stupid wallet," he muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the hazy horizon. "And that stupid halfling." The thought of Liora—the infuriating, smug, cryptic mess of a guide—made his jaw tighten. Every encounter with the halfling left Kael teetering between gratitude and the urge to throttle him.