Chapter 5 Morning Signs

• As the morning light filtered softly through the stitched hide flaps of the healer’s hut, casting slivers of warmth across the fur-lined bedding. Muscle aching from the long walk that I had yesterday.
• A knock—three slow raps—thudded against the wooden post outside. I check myself to see if I am decent enough before answering.
• “Come in,” I called, voice rasping slightly.
• The flap lifted, revealing Elder Harkan’s stoic form. Behind him stood a slender boy, maybe fifteen in human years, with ears twitching beneath tousled dark hair. He kept his eyes down, avoiding mine.
• [System Alert]
• Identity Detected: Male Beastman - Fox
• Age: 74 Years
• Status: Apprentice-in-training
• Without preamble, the elder tossed a thick bundle of folded fur toward the foot of my bed. “Wear this.”
• I blinked at it. “Morning to you, too.”
• Harkan grunted. “You’ll need it. The hut doesn’t heat itself, and walking around in that shredded mess you arrived in will earn more questions than we care to answer.”
• “Fair.” I rose and accepted the bundle without another word. The fur was surprisingly soft—light but warm, dyed in earthy tones and stitched with minimal decoration. Practical. Comfortable. Beastmen didn’t do excessive, apparently.
• I hastily ran my fingers through my knotted hair as I changed behind the divider curtain. Because my muscles still didn't seem to have healed from that excursion, I walked unsteadily. As I came out, the boy had already begun to prepare something over the firepit at the hut's edge, his actions deliberate and well-practiced.
• Harkan eyed me with that same unreadable expression. “You eat?”
• “Yes.”
• “What do you eat?” he asked.
• I shrugged one shoulder. “Grains. Fish. Vegetables. Eggs. Lean meat, cooked, not raw. Nothing too greasy. No mystery stew with floating claws.”
• The boy blinked but nodded and quickly went to work. Harkan gave a short nod of approval and moved to his workbench.
• The scent of broth filled the air soon after, warm and earthy. I watched the boy work—he was quick on his feet, careful not to make noise, and yet I could tell he was listening to everything.
• I sat near the low table, accepting a carved bowl with a soft thank you.
• [System Notification – Meal Analysis]
• Ingredients Detected:
• – Whiteroot: Mildly sweet tuber; reduces inflammation, soothes digestive tract.
• – Juniper Ash: Ground from dried juniper berries; stimulates circulation, aids respiratory clarity.
• – Bone Broth Base (Fanged Elk): High in collagen; replenishes vitality, promotes tissue recovery.
• – Stoneleaf Herb (trace): Natural mild analgesic; relaxes sore muscles.
• – Salt Crystals (Mountain Source): Restores electrolyte balance, supports nerve function.
• Nutritional Value: Balanced.
• Compatibility with Host Body: 100%.
• System Suggestion: Recommend moderate consumption. Mild energy boost and healing support optimal for recovery phase.
• Xueya blinked at the notification. That is helpful. She thought.
• The boy glanced up, startled by my voice, then offered the tiniest smile before ducking his head again.
• “He doesn’t speak much,” Harkan said. “But he listens well. Learns fast.”
• “Good hands,” I noted, sipping the broth. “He seasoned this with whiteroot and juniper ash. Not bad.”
• The boy's eyes glowed with something that was nearly pride.
• “He’ll make a fine apprentice,” Harkan said.
• We ate quietly. For once, it wasn’t awkward.
• When breakfast ended, I stood and stretched. “So. What do we do today?”
• “Inventory. Sorting. Mild healing, if anyone shows up with complaints. If you collapse, I’ll toss you outside until you recover.” Harkan listed.
• “Your bedside manner is breathtaking,” I drawled.
• He turned toward the shelf. “It works.”
• Before I could throw another retort, the hut’s flap burst open.
• [System Alert]
• Identity Detected: Female Beastman (Feline - Lynx)
• Age: 243 Years
• Status: Pregnant – Early Term | Stable Condition
• “Elder Harkan! I brought the winterroot you—”
• The voice halted as bright green eyes fell on me.
• “You’re not Harkan.”
• The woman strode in without hesitation. Short, freckled, and wild-haired, she radiated energy like a spark near dry moss.
• “And you’re not shy,” I replied, lifting a brow.
• She grinned. “Why would I be? You’ve got golden eyes and smell nothing like any one around here. Obvious outsider. I’m Meiha, and you’re about to be my new entertainment.”
• “Xueya,” I replied. “Officially here to not die.”
• “Excellent. We’re going to be great friends.”
• Meiha dropped her satchel with a dramatic sigh. “Kerrik’s back is sore again, so I did the delivery. Besides, I like it here. Less noise. Better tea.”
• She leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper. “Also, I like watching Harkan pretend not to be amused.”
• “He’s failing today,” I said, nodding toward the elder who had clearly given up on chasing her off.
• “He does that. Secretly fond of me.”
• “I’m sure he tells the fire that when no one’s looking.”
• Meiha barked a laugh. “You’re perfect. Spirits, I needed this.”
• She settled beside me, helping herself to a leftover root chunk and nibbling. “So, what’s your story? You show up half-dead, get taken in by Ravnir, and now you’re here as a healer?”
• I stared at her; she almost nailed it.
• “Close enough,” I said. “With more bruises and fewer warm welcomes.”
• “Ah, the usual then.” She rubbed her belly absently. “When I showed up in this village—gods, one hundred years ago—I almost got mistaken for a feral cub. Kioren, my first mate, a warrior here, had to fight two boars just to keep me from wandering off.
• “You’ve been here that long?”
• She nodded. “Pregnant now, too. Not my first. I keep them busy, poor thing. Kerrik, my second mate, is a gatherer. I take his deliveries because I like wandering, and honestly? Sitting at home makes my tail twitch.”
• “I get that.”
• We talked, laughed, and traded sarcasm like seasoned friends. The boy glanced at us from the corner, looking vaguely terrified and fascinated.
• Harkan didn’t interrupt once.
• By the end of the morning, I knew this much: I wasn’t alone.
• Not anymore.