He didn't say a word as he sat across from her. He simply laid the note on the scarred wooden table.
Kaelen pushed inside. The tavern was thick with the smell of roasted meat and wet wool. In the far corner, tucked away from the boisterous laughter of sell-swords, sat a figure in a hooded slate-grey cloak. Dndm I Love You Much
Kaelen reached across the table, covering her hand with his. The weight of the quest ahead—the dragons, the dark mages, the impossible odds—felt suddenly lighter. He didn't say a word as he sat across from her
Should we continue the story with their , or The tavern was thick with the smell of
It was a code, a shorthand they’d used since they were children stealing apples from the orchard. Dndm. "Don’t never doubt me." It was grammatically a mess, a relic of their youth, but it was their anchor.