Morning light rolled across the settlement, soft and pale against the frost that had settled overnight. Workers moved through the square, their breath visible in the air as they unpacked crates and bundled rope. It wasn't bitterly cold, just sharp enough to feel strange for the season.
Moss tightened Bran's saddle straps, the motion slow, almost mechanical. He'd already helped unload supplies and check fences, but he moved like someone still halfway lost in thought. Bran gave a short kweh and nudged his shoulder. Moss managed a faint smile, brushing the chocobo's neck.
Across the camp, Merel adjusted her white armband and glanced toward him. The young healer, turned, quartermaster had been overseeing herb stores since dawn. Her brow furrowed as she watched Moss a moment longer before heading toward Rosa, who was marking off ledgers by the supply tent.
"You've noticed it too?" Merel asked, lowering her voice. "He's quieter than usual."
Rosa paused mid, mark. "He's always quiet."
"This is different," Merel said. "Like he's… elsewhere. The others from his group seem fine."
That made Rosa look up. Her eyes followed Merel's toward the pens, where Moss stood with Bran under the weak sun. The knight's posture was steady, but there was a weight about him, a kind of stillness that didn't belong.
Rosa set her quill down. "I'll speak with him later. Keep it to yourself for now. The others only need to hear about the ore vein and the supply returns."
Merel nodded and went back to work.
Later that morning, Rosa crossed paths with Kain near the edge of the camp. He stood beside the half, built palisade, spear resting lightly across his shoulder as he inspected a row of laborers repairing gaps. Frost still lined the wood, thin but persistent.
"Cold morning," Rosa said as she approached.
Kain glanced at her. "Unusual for this far inland."
She studied him. "You've felt it too?"
"Maybe," he said after a pause. "Or maybe everyone's just wound too tight lately. The air feels heavier than it used to."
Her eyes flicked toward the main square, where Moss and Dole were helping with the carts. "Some more than others."
Kain followed her gaze, then shrugged slightly. "Before, we never had time to think. Orders, marches, battles, it kept our heads filled. Out here, there's too much quiet. Makes a man think more than he should."
Rosa didn't reply, and for a while, neither spoke. Around them, the noise of hammers and shuffling boots carried easily.
The frost cracked softly under her boots as she turned away. The sun was rising higher now, but the chill lingered, faint, like a reminder that something in the air had shifted, even if no one could quite name why.