The forest parts easily as Donny and I walk. Not because it wants to, but because everything else wants to be somewhere else.
A rustle to the left. Gone. A shadow to the right. Gone. Something large crashes through the underbrush in a blind panic, only to trip over a root and flee even harder.
I sigh.
[Wright] "You'd think they'd be used to me by now."
Donny lets out a small churr that might be agreement. Or amusement. It's hard to tell with him.
He's more relaxed than usual today. His head isn't constantly swiveling. His legs aren't braced to bolt. He moves with an easy, unhurried confidence, occasionally stopping to sniff at plants or paw at the ground.
It's a noticeable change. I glance at him.
[Wright] "Feeling better?"
Donny churrs softly, a gentle vibration that sounds almost content. Good.
We move deeper into the forest, toward a sunlit clearing. Donny pauses and nudges a low-growing plant with his snout.
Wild onions.
The sharp scent hits my nose immediately.
[Wright] "Ah. Good call."
I harvest a handful, careful to leave enough for regrowth. The bulbs go into Storage, followed by the long green stalks.
A few steps further, Donny stops again. This time beside a cluster of low bushes heavy with small, golden fruit.
Golden grapples.
I pluck a few clusters, popping one into my mouth. Sweet. Honeyed. Almost nostalgic.
[Wright] "Jam later," I mutter.
Donny churrs approvingly.
We continue like that, an unspoken rhythm. Root tubers pulled from soft soil. Carrotroot snapped cleanly from the earth. Spiceleaf clipped carefully, its peppery scent clinging to my fingers. Sunfall fruit gathered from a low-hanging branch, their red skins warm from the light.
Wild strawberries don't last long. I eat more than I bother putting into Storage.
At one point, a Steelhide Warboar bursts from the brush ahead of us. It locks eyes with me. Mana flares along its tusks.
Then it squeals, turns, and flees so hard it cracks a tree trunk on the way out.
I blink.
[Wright] "…Rude."
Donny stares after it, then looks up at me. He churrs. This one feels smug.
I chuckle and shake my head.
[Wright] "Alright, alright. I get it. I'm scary."
We reach a natural fork in the path, and I stop.
[Wright] "Hey, Donny."
He looks up.
[Wright] "I can't exactly hunt anything. Think you can grab some meat while I finish gathering?"
Donny straightens. A deeper churr this time. Confident.
He turns, pads off into the forest, and vanishes with surprising quiet for something his size.
I watch him go, smiling faintly. Then I glance back toward the direction of the cabin.
Jyne. In my bathroom. Using my tub.
The thought is… oddly normal. Less goddess, more old friend crashing at my place.
[Wright] "Huh," I mutter. "Maybe retirement isn't as lonely as I thought it would be."
I kneel and begin sorting seeds.
---
The water is warm. A relaxing type of warmth that hugs you like a blanket on a cold winter night.
Jyne sinks deeper into the tub, shoulders finally submerged.
For a long moment, she does nothing. No thinking. No planning. No weighing consequences.
Just breathing.
[Sylphaeris — internal] …So this is what stopping feels like.
The scent of soap lingers in the steam. Clean, faintly floral, with a hint of lavender.
[Sylphaeris — internal] It's pleasant. Dangerously so.
[Jyne — internal] You sound concerned.
[Sylphaeris — internal] I am allowed to be impressed.
The water laps softly against the tub as Jyne exhales. Her presence—usually taut, radiant, pressing—has softened.
Not diminished. Just… uncoiled.
[Sylphaeris — internal] Your pressure on the world is easing.
[Jyne — internal] Is that bad?
[Sylphaeris — internal] No. It's quiet.
A pause.
[Sylphaeris — internal] I think the forest likes it.
Jyne's hands drift beneath the surface, fingers flexing slowly.
[Jyne — internal] I haven't done this in a long time.
[Sylphaeris — internal] I know. You never stop.
The water ripples as Jyne leans back, eyes closing. The weight she carries—centuries of corrections, compromises, near-collapses—doesn't vanish.
But it loosens.
[Sylphaeris — internal] You feel lighter.
[Jyne — internal] I feel… irresponsible.
[Sylphaeris — internal] You feel human.
A beat.
[Jyne — internal] I am not—
[Sylphaeris — internal] I know. But you are allowed to borrow the feeling.
Steam curls toward the ceiling.
[Sylphaeris — internal] This place doesn't demand anything from you. Neither does he.
The thought lingers. Unsettling. Comforting.
[Sylphaeris — internal] He doesn't judge you. He doesn't blame you. He simply understands. I can see why you revere him.
Jyne's lips curve faintly.
---
The forest is calm.
I take a moment to soak it in. Breathe in. Breathe out. Amazing.
I glance around.
[Wright] "Donny's taking his time."
I don't mind. I sit on a fallen log, idly peeling a Citruspear. Tangy. Refreshing.
My thoughts drift—unbidden.
Jyne looks… tired. I frown slightly.
[Wright] "She really has been doing too much."
The forest hums softly, indifferent but present.
---
The bathwater sloshes gently as Jyne shifts.
[Sylphaeris — internal] You're smiling.
[Jyne — internal] Am I?
[Sylphaeris — internal] Yes.
A pause.
[Sylphaeris — internal] It suits you.
---
By the time Donny returns, the sun is dipping low. He drags a massive Steelhide Warboar behind him.
I stare.
[Wright] "…That's excessive."
Donny churrs proudly.
I butcher it then store the meat, hide, and tusks into Storage.
When I return to the cabin, the door opens before I can knock.
Jyne stands there.
Hair damp. Expression soft. Presence light.
For a moment, we just look at each other.
[Wright] "I'm home."
Jyne blinks—then laughs. A quiet, genuine sound.
[Jyne] "Welcome back."
[Sylphaeris — internal] …Unbelievable.
I step inside, grinning.
And for just a little while, the world is allowed to wait.