Maui and Naruz paced the main area of the mine, the air heavy with the earthy scent of damp stone. The space was a hive of subdued activity—goblins hammering at fresh barricades with rhythmic clangs that echoed off the walls, the sharp tang of metal shavings mixing with the sweat of labor. Goblins darted between legs, their laughter a fragile echo in the post-battle calm, while the survivors from other mines poured into this one which released a repulsive smell, they hadn't showered but this was the only mine that was secured. The sun had dipped low outside, casting shadows through the entrance, but Byung still hadn't returned from his "private time" after the spar.
Maui stopped her pacing, crossing her massive arms over her chest, her green eyes flicking to the tunnel mouth for the tenth time. Her tusks ground together with a low rasp, the sound barely audible over the bustle.
"He's been gone hours," she said, voice a deep rumble that carried worry like a hidden current.
