[POV: Solenne]
The small bells above the apothecary door gave a soft chime.
Solenne glanced up from where she'd been bottling a fever tonic, half-expecting another miner with a shattered limb or a harried mother with a sick child. Instead, she found a tall figure standing in the doorway, holding a parcel wrapped in oilcloth under one arm.
His presence was… quiet, but not shy. He reminded her of someone who had learned to occupy space without drawing attention to himself.
He had dark auburn hair, tied into a short, loose ponytail at his nape, and wore clothes weathered by dust and the elements. A leather satchel crossed his chest, and a falcon's feather was tucked into one of the straps. His boots were scuffed, his posture relaxed, but his eyes were still sharp and inquisitive.
The man gave her a nod and stepped inside.
Solenne wiped her hands, then crossed the floor to meet him. She reached for her writing slate but paused when he held up the parcel and pointed to it.
