As I step through the door of my small, cozy home, a wave of relief washes over me. My muscles are sore, the ache from the long day of gathering herbs and narrowly avoiding danger still clinging to my body.
The weight of the pouch with the sixty gold coins presses lightly against my hip as I remove my satchel and place it on the table. My fingers brush against the cool wood, and I take a deep breath, trying to let go of the lingering tension.
It feels good to be back.
The familiar warmth of the little house greets me like an old friend. The gentle glow of the small fireplace, the scent of the herbs I keep hanging by the window, the comforting stillness it's the perfect contrast to the chaos of the guild.
This is my space, where everything feels in its place, where I can finally rest and reflect.