Breakfast in the sanctuary was never a formal ceremony, which made unexpected surprises far more dangerous to navigate.
No one blocked the child's seat or reached across her plate while the family worked through the unexpected news.
The long table was laden with fresh bread, roasted roots, hot tea, and a savory pot of meat stew.
Steam rose from the clay broth bowls, fogging the narrow dining hall windows with pleasant morning moisture.
Ferra declared the stew completely edible after testing a spoonful against a clean copper ladle at dawn.
Loccy sat on the bench with both arms immobilized in padded splints, her travel coat resting open.
The protected child sat pressed against her side, fingers clutching a fistful of the brawler's coat fabric.
Rumi occupied the outer edge of the bench, while Nari kept her back anchored against the sturdy plastered wall.
Juna sat at the far head of the table, maintaining an unobstructed sightline toward both the front and rear doors.
