The Gathering Storm
The other side.
Clara was surprised to see Lane suddenly leave without saying anything.
The black-haired woman rarely acted without purpose. In fact, during the time they had spent together, Clara had learned one thing about Lane—every action she took carried meaning. She was not the type to waste words, nor was she the type to move without reason.
The training field gradually fell quiet after Lane's departure.
The warm afternoon breeze swept through the surrounding grasslands, causing the leaves overhead to sway gently. The sunlight remained bright, but for some reason Clara felt a strange uneasiness settle in her chest.
'I wonder what happened?...'
She watched the direction Lane had disappeared toward.
'Even though I still can't get a proper read on her expressionless face, I think I actually saw a bit of worry in her look.'
The thought lingered in her mind.
Worry.
That was something Clara almost never associated with Lane.
