Think we'll see the end of this?

The dawn light crept hesitantly across the barren landscape, as if afraid to uncover what the night had concealed. Vela and Loxley, however, had no such hesitations. They moved swiftly, their bodies close, always touching—a shoulder brush here, a hand graze there—as they navigated through the rocky terrain. This wasn't just practical, ensuring neither lagged nor strayed; it was also profoundly intimate, an unspoken affirmation that they were in this together.

"Ever think about what we'd be doing if we weren't dodging death and sparking revolutions?" Loxley mused, his voice low, almost lost in the whistle of the wind.

Vela chuckled, a sound laced with both amusement and a tinge of sorrow. "Probably something painfully mundane. I might have been a tech consultant. And you?"

"Professional gambler," Loxley replied without skipping a beat, his grin wide as he helped her over a particularly tricky patch of rocks. "High stakes, of course."