Chapter 29: Harthos the Steady
The smell of bruised leaf and wet earth and something older than both rose up around him like a tide coming in.
(The figure was first sketched in a sketchbook using pencil & paper, then photographed and uploaded to Procreate, where it was painted using the Eaglehawk brush and then superimposed in Canva on a previous Procreate oil painting that I used for a previous chapter - Chaiga T. Cheska)
“Could you explain precisely what you mean by ‘waiting for us’?” Bran pressed, curiosity overriding any impulse towards caution. Oren, eager to silence him, delivered a swift swat to Bran’s shoulder, yet Bran merely shot his brother a brief, rueful glance before returning his gaze to Harthos, intent upon hearing the answer.
“How long have you been waiting here?” Tavik inquired, his tone laced with suspicion yet underpinned by curiosity, all the while wondering how he could have failed to notice they were under observation.
