Talon was on his night watch, fulfilling his duty by patrolling the camp's perimeter.
After completing his circuit, he found a spot to rest—a large boulder. Sitting on the rock, Talon took a deep breath and reached for his guitar.
With a gentle strum, Talon began to play. The melody was soft, flowing effortlessly from his fingers as he let his voice join in.
He wasn't trying to put on a performance; this was just his way of passing the time, of finding peace.
Nearby, a small group had gathered on another set of boulders.
They had brewed tea from the local plants, enjoying the warmth of their drinks as they listened to Talon's impromptu concert.
"Ah," one of them sighed contentedly, taking a sip of tea, "listening to Talon play like this while sipping on freshly brewed tea... it's like we're in some fancy café. I think I'd pay good money for this kind of experience."
