Noah led them a little further down the road until Elann stopped him, her growing nervousness giving cause for him to slow until she voiced her want to return to the camp. Noah looked to the sky and didn’t feel warning in the winds, thus he didn’t feel any incoming danger. He looked down to Elann before folding and turning to backtrack down the road towards the camp. The firelight grew brighter as they got closer and the whispers of conversation were heard on over the wind. Noah saw the cook and Aimee conversing idly as whatever was in the pot was stewing over the firepit. It seemed they were getting ready to serve what was on the menu that evening, which seemed to just consist of a hearty soup with chunks of meat in it.

Once the camp was within full sight Noah decided he wanted to return to their tent, nodding in that direction and not turning for another lap on the road. The smell of what was cooking was in the air and was pulling him to rest so he could eat since he hadn’t eaten since that morning. The turf turned from well-worn road to cool grass under his feet. He padded on slowly at his pace until the warmth of the fire was felt on his bare skin. As they reached the fire the dinner bell went off, the cook’s voice sounding through the quiet air to tell those gathered to come and grab their meals. Aimee remained by the man’s side acting as a server for the children.

Noah stood by the fire, looking to Elann because at this point he expected her to already be off fetching food for the both of them. Any of his attempts to be self-sufficient in that regard were met by her telling him that she enjoyed serving him. It did make him feel awkward because of the backwardness in comparison to how his family’s household was, where the act of self-preservation was in making sure the women and children were tended to first because it was them who carried on the memory of the men.