Thalorin returned to the house a few minutes later, his heavy boots thudding softly against the wooden floor as he stepped inside.
He pulled out a chair and sat down with a quiet sigh, rolling his shoulders to shake off the stiffness from the air.
After finishing their meal, Thalorin and Lyriel exchanged a quick glance before standing up from the table.
Their movements were hurried but not frantic, just the quiet urgency of people who knew they were running late yet still wanted to savor the last moments of a peaceful morning.
Lyriel brushed the crumbs from her dress, tucking a loose strand of golden hair behind her ear. "We should hurry," she murmured, already stepping away from the table. "We're late as it is."
Alex sat at the dining table with Syrla, still adjusting to the reality of his new life in the elven world.
