A cold dew seeped through the floor of the tent, licking at Ana's skin as she shifted awake. Her movements were slow and reluctant, like someone being dragged from a sweet, suffocating dream. She groaned and opened her eyes to the dimness. A single lantern swung gently from a rough beam, casting erratic shadows that danced across the weathered canvas. She could feel Caden's presence before she saw him, the comforting pull of the boy's bright soul slumbering nearby. She smiled softly as he blinked into awareness, the sleep clearing from his eyes in increments. They both lay there for a moment longer, enjoying the fragile cocoon of warmth that the tent provided against the damp coldness of morning. Then came the sound of a gruff, familiar voice.
"We're heading out again—join us or stay behind."
It was Garin, the old merchant whose ink-stained hands seemed permanently grafted to his inventory lists. Ana sat up with a start, exchanging a quick look with Caden. They didn't need to speak; she tilted her head, letting the boy make the call. He stretched, and a spark of youth lit up his face. As if in answer, the flap of the tent snapped open, and a blast of chill air carried the scents of horses and muddy earth.
Ana felt the day crashing in on her, wiping away the warmth and quiet. Caden rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and a sudden eagerness flickered across his face. She watched as he swung himself upright with the boundless energy that only fourteen-year-olds seemed to possess. A wistful smile touched her lips; she remembered having that same unshakable drive once. With a languid stretch, she rose from the threadbare cot, the dampness of the tent mingling with the fabric of her clothes.
The light outside brightened as Garin unceremoniously lifted the flap wider. He squinted at them, a wry grin splitting his weathered features. Behind him, a rough wooden table was strewn with the patched remnants of their travel gear and a small, pitiful cache of supplies.
"Up and at 'em, then," he called. "Don't suppose you'd want to be left behind in the wilds?" His voice was warm but carried a teasing edge, the mark of a man accustomed to the rough-and-tumble life of a merchant caravan.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Ana shot a glance at Caden, who seemed to be taking it all in with bright-eyed enthusiasm. He looked ready to bolt out the door, and it made her grin despite the dreariness of the morning.
"You heard him," she said dryly.
The merchant laughed, a sound like gravel tumbling down a hill. His ink-stained fingers gestured broadly at the assortment of worn packs and bundled cloaks. Caden was already springing to his feet, his energy contagious. Ana followed more deliberately, pausing to take stock of the situation.
Her eyes swept over the contents laid out on the table. Two cracked water skins, a few pieces of hardtack, and a rolled-up canvas that had seen better days. Her lips curled into a wry smile.
"Quite the feast you're offering," she remarked, slipping into her cloak with practiced ease. "You trying to spoil us?"
Garin shrugged, his expression one of good-natured exasperation. "It's not a palace," he replied, referencing their last stop and its relative luxury. "But it'll get you through the next few days."
His gaze turned to Caden, who was already strapping on a bulging pack with barely concealed excitement. "You sure you're up for it, lad?" he asked. "Not everyone makes it out to the other side of these woods."
Caden's eyes gleamed with a mix of determination and youthful bravado. "We'll make it," he said, glancing at Ana for confirmation. "Right?"
She met his gaze with an amused arch of her eyebrow. "If the merchant here doesn't leave us behind," she answered. "I'm not keen on turning into bear bait."
Garin chuckled, the lines around his eyes crinkling with genuine affection. He seemed to take as much joy in their banter as she did in the trade routes he loved to navigate. With a final wave of his hand, he turned and ducked back out of the tent, leaving Ana and Caden to the task of gathering their meager possessions.
Ana moved, her slender fingers securing what they could from the sparse offerings. Caden mirrored her actions, but with the urgency of a boy hungry for adventure.
"We'll catch up to them, right?" Caden asked, a hint of worry threading through his excitement.
Ana paused, her eyes softening as she took in his expression. "We always do," she assured him.
They worked in concert, packing and securing until the inside of the tent looked as barren as a looted tomb. Caden hoisted his pack with a grunt of satisfaction, his face flushed with the anticipation of the journey. Ana's smile lingered as she watched him.
Finally, with their gear strapped and ready, they exchanged a conspiratorial glance.
