The living room was an absolute sea of green, leaf-wrapped parcels.
There were thousands of them, stacked haphazardly across every available surface. Leaving them like this was a chaotic nightmare. They needed to be sorted, batched, and crated for rapid deployment.
Roxy turned to Torian. "Bring in the large wooden crates from the storage shed. All of them. And grab a piece of cold charcoal from the hearth."
Torian didn't ask questions. He gently took the sleeping toddler, Tanith, from Roxy's hip and laid her carefully on a thick, clean fur rug near the extinguished fireplace, ensuring the little one was comfortable. Then, he strode out the back door.
Within minutes, Torian returned, hauling a stack of six massive, heavy-duty wooden crates over his broad shoulders as if they weighed nothing at all. He set them down in the only clear space remaining in the center of the living room. He handed Roxy a thick piece of blackened charcoal.
