Chapter 12 Whispers In The Veins Of Stone

• The sun stretched its golden arms over the thatched rooftops of the village as the day unfolded with a cautious hush—an unspoken reverence for the healer who had walked into their world from another. Though she bore no claws or fangs, no tail or pointed ears, Xueya’s presence stirred something primal in even the most seasoned beastman. A foreign power cloaked her every motion, stitched between the grace of her fingers and the calm authority of her voice.
• Xueya emerged from her hut with steadier steps than the day before, her rest in the Moon Pool having restored more than just her physical strength. She moved like someone reborn—eyes sharper, her posture regal, if a little wary. Ravnir shadowed her closely, ever the sentinel, his gaze scanning the path ahead for more than just dangers. There was awe in his eyes, and beneath it, something softer. Adoration, perhaps. Or fear. Fear of how close she had come to leaving him.
• A small crowd had gathered outside the healer’s hut, whispers and glances following them like wind in tall grass.