Chapter 85 - What Trust Demands

The morning crept into the clearing with silent weight, the gold of dawn lancing through the trees. It was cool, heavy with the scent of damp earth and charred wood from last night's fires. Taryn sat near the clearings edge, her blade balanced across her knees. Her hands moved with steady precision, working the whetstone along its edge, but her gaze continued to dart into the shadows of the forest. Something beyond the tree line tugged on her awareness, a feeling of unease that she could neither place nor dismiss.