After Athena and I parted ways, I didn't head straight back to the tracks, nor did I rush off to find another task to fill the hours. Instead, I walked slowly toward the high stone overlook that bordered the eastern edge of the packlands, my shadow guards following at a quiet, respectful distance.
I leaned my forearms against the cool stone balustrade, looking out over the sprawling territory bathed in the warm gold of the afternoon sun.
For the first time in weeks, the quiet settled around me—not as a heavy, anxious weight, but as a gentle mirror.
Standing there, listening to the distant laughter of children playing in the courtyard below and the steady hum of a thriving pack, a sudden realization washed over me. Athena was right, I never stopped. In the frantic rush of solving medical
