The North Side Of The Camp

August's concern for Claire's well-being was evident as he approached her, carefully assessing her for any injuries. His voice carried a tone of genuine worry as he inquired, "Are you alright?" His eyes scanned her form, searching for any signs of harm.

Claire, though bearing minor wounds, reassured August with a soft voice, "Yeah, Leader. It's just some minor wounds... a healing potion will do."

Relief washed over August's face, his expression softening as he acknowledged her resilience. "Good. I'm sorry I couldn't arrive in time to deal with him. However, you were able to hold him quite well," he said solemnly, his voice laced with admiration for Claire's prowess.

A blush colored Claire's cheeks as she absorbed August's praise, her gratitude evident in her nod of acknowledgement. She remained silent, unable to find the words to express her appreciation for his recognition.