By the time Damon woke up, the evening sun was already dipping below the horizon. He didn't feel particularly rested. When he glanced down, he found Sylvia nestled in his arms, sound asleep. The others looked just as exhausted, their bodies heavy with lingering fatigue.
Leona mumbled in her sleep, leaning against Matia. "Damon… make something tasty…"
She must have been hungrier than she let on, trying to be considerate of their dwindling supplies.
Carefully, he shifted Sylvia away, making sure not to wake her. She stirred slightly but remained asleep. He got to his feet and rummaged through his supply bag, pulling out a dried piece of jerky.
He sighed. "This is all we have left, huh?" he muttered, taking a bite.
Sitting down, he gazed at the evening sky, watching as his shadow returned to him. In his hands was a weathered old book, its pages heavily worn from time. He read in silence, the minutes stretching on, until a deep rumble vibrated through the ground.
