The next day came not with a bang, but with an unexpected quiet energy.
Sol woke up to the smell of rich broth and the sound of hushed movement. He blinked, expecting the usual chaos of the morning rush, but the hut was orderly.
Lyra and the girls were already awake, moving with a synchronized efficiency. They were busy sorting and storing the massive haul of ingredients they had accumulated over the past few days… hanging dried meats, packing herbs into clay jars, and organizing the valuable furs.
Lyra was at the fire pit, stirring a pot that smelled divine. She was cooking the snake meat according to his soup recipe… searing the dense white flesh first, then letting it simmer with the chilies and the salty marsh-grass.
Seeing him sit up, Lyra turned. She forced a bright smile onto her face, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Sol," she greeted him softly. "You are up. Hurry and freshen up. The soup is already ready. You need to eat."
