Liam stood in the morning light of the forest. The trees were silent now, save for the calls of distant birds. Beside him, Tomlin prodded the great black coil of the Fleshburrower's body with his makeshift spear. Liam shook his head in relief and awe: the monstrous worm that snarled at them only a few hours ago now lay helpless, its hide glistening in the sun. They had done it together—an achievement neither would forget.
Tomlin whistled softly at the twitching remains. "Think this will impress the merchant at Redhaven?" he asked, wiping gore from his brow. He grinned, showing teeth rimmed in dried crimson. "If we sell these parts, we could afford real gear," he said. "Maybe even a proper spear for me." His eyes gleamed at the thought.
Liam laughed at Tomlin's enthusiasm, though fatigue was clear on his face. "We earned it today," he said softly. He sheathed his iron sword into the ground and knelt beside the beast. Together, they began to strip useful parts from the Fleshburrower's corpse. Liam carefully cut away strips of tough hide and folded them into Tomlin's pack. Tomlin hummed in approval.
Liam then took a long, curved fang gingerly. "Trophy material," he murmured, holding it up. Tomlin chuckled. "Something to remember the day by," Liam added.
He realized that just hours earlier they had been muddy recruits on a forest trail. Now they stood, bonded by battle and feeling more grown than ever. Liam's heart swelled with pride at how far they'd come in one day.
"Got the eyes, got some spines," Tomlin listed off as they moved. Each toss of hide or bone brought them closer to filling their packs. Sometimes Tomlin's stomach roiled at the smell, and he laughed nervously. "I never expected monster guts to be part of our day," he admitted.
Liam snorted and gave him a playful nudge. "Welcome to adventuring, partner," he said. "Next time we'll bring gloves."
By mid-morning, their packs were heavy with salvage. Liam wiped sweat from his forehead and stood upright. "It should be enough," he said confidently. Redhaven couldn't be more than half a day's walk from here.
With the Fleshburrower dead and their prize at hand, every sapling seemed to bow before them, every sunbeam felt brighter. Tomlin hoisted his bag onto his shoulder, his empty spear tucked under his arm. The weapon looked harmless now in his hands—more like a celebratory stick than a tool of war.
They set off down the rutted trail in good spirits. The path wound up and out of the thick forest toward open fields. More than once, Tomlin flexed his arm and swung the empty spear gleefully. Liam kept one eye on him. "Easy there," he said with a grin as Tomlin jabbed at the air and nearly lost his footing.
"I'd hate to see you spear a butterfly," Liam teased. Tomlin barked a laugh. "If it hops away quickly, it deserves it!" he said, shaking a fist in Liam's direction like a challenge. The two friends continued down the path, bantering as they went.
Near midday, the forest opened up. Beyond the last whisper of trees, blue sky and golden fields spread toward a distant town. Liam paused on a rise, shading his eyes. "There—Redhaven," he said.
Far off, white walls crowned with battlements glittered in the sun. Tomlin whistled. "Look at that," he said in awe. "So many people."
Down the slope, they could see the highway to Redhaven's gate, dotted with travelers and wagons. Colorful flags and banners marked inns and farms along the road, welcoming them. Birds wheeled overhead, and a chorus of distant voices drifted up from the town.
Liam grinned widely. Stepping out of the quiet woods into the bustle of civilization, both of them felt a thrilling pulse. This was it—the next step of their journey. Side by side, Liam and Tomlin strode toward Redhaven with their prize in hand, ready for whatever would come next.