The Drifting Leaf was quieter than it had been in days. The hum of its living walls was low and rhythmic, like the slow breathing of something alive. The glow from the bio-lights cast a soft green over everything, painting the faces around the room in muted tones.
Marc sat alone at the table, one hand wrapped around a steaming cup of something that pretended to be coffee. His jacket hung over the back of the chair, dusted with the last traces of Fresia's red sand. He hadn't bothered to clean it. The taste of iron and heat still lingered in his mouth, but his mind was calm. Almost too calm.
Across the room, Lira sat with her uncle, curled up on the padded bench. She'd finally stopped shaking. Evelyn was with them, her voice low, soothing. Silas was dozing against the wall, arms crossed, while Reia typed away at her datapad, her expression unreadable. Vyn sat in the shadows, as always, drinking tea that never seemed to go cold.
