The road south from Moonshade City carried a lighter feeling than anything the past week had produced inside the city.
The city's walls faded behind them gradually, and with the distance came a collective easing that none of them had fully acknowledged carrying until it was no longer necessary.
Morgan rode with the particular quiet satisfaction of someone who had obtained the specific thing they had traveled a considerable distance for, occasionally glancing toward the storage ring on his right hand with the unconscious habit of a person checking that something important was still where they had left it.
John sat straighter on his spirit beast than he had at any point during their stay in Moonshade City, the particular tension of operating in unfamiliar political territory releasing from his shoulders as a familiar open road replaced crowded city streets.
