Mist lingered in the early air as Tian Shen stood by the outer sect's travel platform, his robe half-wrinkled and his eyes half-closed, despite the overly perky sun insisting that today was going to be important.
Somehow, that made it worse.
Little Mei, now in her beast form, was practically bouncing in place, her tail sweeping back and forth like a banner declaring chaos.
Feng Yin, graceful as ever, stood with a calm dignity that made Tian Shen feel underdressed by sheer proximity.
Drowsy, of course, had commandeered his shoulder—now wearing a tiny red scarf Feng Yin had stitched last night that barely covered her divine presence, claiming "all great adventurers wear accessories."
"Are you sure you're awake?"
Feng Yin asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No," Tian Shen replied bluntly.
Behind them, the disciple from yesterday, now painfully formal, stood at a respectful distance with a scroll in hand.
