The forest was eerily quiet as we made our way back to the wreckage. The birds didn't sing. The leaves barely rustled and the scent of blood still clung to the earth like a stain that wouldn't wash away. The cart lay splintered, wheel half-buried in mud. The remains of the guards and merchants were still scattered, most half-eaten, some unrecognizable. Borin knelt beside one of the corpses, bowing his head in silence for a moment before sighing and standing.
"Didn't know 'em," he muttered. "Just hired swords. Got their coin, died doin' their job."
I glanced over.
"Sorry." I said.
"Eh." he shrugged, though his tone betrayed something deeper. "I'm the last of the Blackstones anyway. Just me and my hammer now."
Kurokami, ever the beacon of social grace, casually padded over… with a femur in his mouth.
"Kurokami!" I barked, "Drop it! You're not supposed to chew on… people!"
He tilted his head, then dropped it with a wet thud.
"He's got taste, I'll give 'im that." Borin chuckled.
"Bad dog. You're embarrassing me in front of the dwarf."
"The dwarf can hear ya, twig-boy," Borin replied with a smirk.
We got to work picking through the remnants. Borin, despite the situation, moved like a professional, methodically checking what remained of the supply crates, salvaging rope, nails, a worn toolkit, and a few half-battered weapons. Most of the good gear was stained or destroyed, but surprisingly One of the armor set had survived. Lightweight leathers reinforced with hardened bark and iron plating.
"Not my size." Borin said, patting the chestplate. "But looks your speed."
He held it out to me, along with a pair of wrist guards, shin pads, and an arm wrap that looked like it had seen better days.
"Thanks," I said, taking the gear.
"Didn't expect a wardrobe update today."
"Least I can do. You did stop me from bein' kitty kibble."
As we worked, the air softened a little. Grief gave way to rhythm. He sawed through the broken beams of the cart with a small hand-saw, gathering enough sturdy planks and struts to craft a sled. It wasn't elegant, but it would carry what we needed.
"You're good at this." I said, watching him lash rope through notches he'd carved in the wood.
"Was a builder before I picked up the axe. Learned forging from my father. Stonework from my uncle."
We both laughed.
I hesitated, then cleared my throat.
"So… want to stick around?"
He paused. Looked at me.
"With you?"
"Yeah. I mean, you're handy, sarcastic, not dead yet. I could use help building a real cabin. Could be better than traveling alone."
Borin rubbed his beard thoughtfully.
"You know what? Why not. Beats wandering until something eats me." He smiled faintly.
"Alright. Deal."
A silence settled between us as we continued working. Then I couldn't help myself.
"By the way… just so you know… if we're building a house together, I call top bunk."
"You build a second floor and we'll talk about bunks." he grunted
"Assuming you can reach it without magic, shortstack."
"Ouch."
"Yeah, now imagine me sayin' it while lookin' up at your scrawny face. Welcome to irony."
We packed up everything we could use, the tools, scraps of armor, salvaged rope, and what few rations had survived the carnage. Borin finished binding the sled and hitched it with rope.
"Right then. You pull, I'll guide."
"Why do I have to pull?"
"You're taller. Longer legs. Better leverage. Now get walkin', beanpole."
Kurokami trotted ahead, clearly enjoying the banter more than either of us. As we returned to camp under the warm light of midday, dragging our scavenged sled behind us, I couldn't help but feel it.
Something solid.
Something new.
A dwarf, a dog, and a dead guy building a future in the woods. Strange company. But it felt like home was finally starting to happen.