Runaway in Hyrule Chapter Twelve - A Firelit Evening

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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔* Chapter 12 - A Firelit Evening °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ I pick up a dry, brittle bush—dead twigs that snap easily in my hands—and carry it back toward the forming camp. The grass rustles softly under my boots as I kneel and set the bundle beside the woman gathering firewood. “Here, let me know if you need more,” I say. “Thank you, dear,” she replies warmly, her tired smile lit faintly by the orange glow of the setting sun. I settle down near the fire pit and watch as a few travelers begin placing the wood, layering sticks and larger pieces together. Sparks jump as one of the men scrapes flint against stone, the crack of each strike echoing through the quieting forest. Finally, the fire catches—starting as a soft glow before growing into gentle flames that sway in the breeze. “I was able to find and hunt down a whole chicken,” a man announces proudly as he places it on a flat rock. “Good! I found carrots and herbs as well,” Heather says, brushing dirt from her hands. Her smile widens as she pulls the vegetables from her satchel. “I’m thinking we do a creamy chicken soup tonight,” the man who got volunteered to cook says. “Just need a few more ingredients and it’ll be perfect.” My stomach flips with anticipation. I can almost imagine the smell already. As I watch the fire grow, I suddenly feel a familiar presence beside me—warm, comforting. Kael sits down so close our arms nearly touch. “Hey,” he says softly, leaning in slightly, “after dinner, I wanna show you a cool spot nearby. Is it okay if you join me later?” “Sure.” I smile, and he smiles back in that way that makes my heart flutter. We sit together, talking quietly while the camp grows busier around us. Every now and then Kael says something funny, and I can’t help but laugh—really laugh. It feels nice. It feels normal. The cook comes back with a handful of wild mushrooms and a pouch of spices, tossing them into the pot hanging over the fire. The smell starts to drift through the camp—rich, warm, creamy with hints of chicken and herbs. It wraps around us like a blanket. Kael and I watch the pot bubble while the rest of the group settles into easy conversations. Some people talk about where they’re going after Riverside Stable. Others chat about trade routes, old memories, or funny mishaps on the road. The sky grows darker until night fully settles in. A breeze sweeps through the trees, rustling leaves and sending a cool shiver along my arms. Someone adds more wood to the fire, and it crackles louder, casting dancing shadows across everyone’s faces. Kael nudges me gently with his shoulder. “Bet the soup’s gonna be amazing,” he says. “I hope so,” I laugh softly. “I’m starving.” “You and me both.” The fire pops, sparks shooting upward like tiny stars. Even though we're surrounded by dozens of people, everything feels calm… almost peaceful. And as the smell of warm soup fills the air and Kael’s knee brushes lightly against mine.