Cassius stood beside Nala, arms folded across his chest, gaze hardened and fixed on the road leading toward the village gates. The faint laughter of children was now distant, swallowed by the oppressive silence settling around them.
But when he glanced at Nala, his frown deepened.
She wasn't looking at the road.
Her gaze was low, distant, unfocused. Her brows were furrowed not in anger, but in guilt. Like she was lost somewhere deep in her own thoughts. Like she was blaming herself.
Cassius sighed softly, stepping closer. He reached out, rubbing her shoulder gently, voice calm.
"Hey...it's alright, Nala. Really. This isn't your fault. That Leviathan—that big, dumb worm has got nothing to do with you."
But to his surprise, Nala turned toward him with a look that was half-annoyed, half-bewildered, like he'd just said something incredibly dumb.
"What are you even saying, Cassius?" She asked, blinking. "Of course it has nothing to do with me."
"...Huh?" He blinked back.
