Craving the alpha soldier 의 모든 챕터: 챕터 141 - 챕터 150

Tyla POVTyla woke to light touching her face unevenly.Not the sun exactly—filtered, interrupted, arriving in fragments through cloudy and branching . She lay still, eyes closed, and let the pattern register first. The night had not ended abruptly. It had loosened its hold gradually, leaving behind a quiet that felt earned.The ground beneath her retained the coolness of rain. When she shifted, moisture pressed through fabric, not unpleasant, just factual. She sat up and rolled her neck once, listening to the small sounds of morning asserting themselves: water dripping from leaves, a bird testing the air with a brief call, the distant hush of wind moving over open ground.She breathed in deeply. The scent of damp earth was stronger now, layered with something green and sharp. Renewal without sentiment.Her body felt heavy in a way she recognized as useful. Yesterday had settled into her muscles honestly. Nothing strained. Nothing withheld. She welcomed the sensation as information ra

Tyla POVTyla woke before she meant to, the last layer of sleep thinning without resistance.There was no single reason. No sound sharp enough to pull her out, no thought insistent enough to follow. Just the quiet internal shift that told her the night had finished with her. She lay still, eyes open, and let the moment arrive fully.The sky above her held a diluted blue, softened by high clouds. Morning light filtered down without confidence, as if testing the land’s readiness. The basin where she had slept retained its coolness, water still pooled in shallow hollows, reflecting fragments of sky and reed and stone. Nothing had changed dramatically. Everything had changed enough.She sat up slowly. Her body answered with familiar signals—stiffness that would loosen, fatigue that felt earned rather than heavy. She rolled her shoulders once, then again, feeling warmth return. Breath deepened naturally.There was no urgency to rise.When she did, it was because stillness had finished spea

Tyla povTyla woke up to sound this time.Not the abrupt kind. Not alarm. Just the layered murmur of morning carrying farther than it had the day before—voices faint and indistinct, the rhythm of work beginning somewhere below her camp. Metal against wood. A call answered by another. The low punctuation of human presence easing itself into the day.She did not move immediately.The ground beneath her was cool but dry. The rise she had chosen held its shape, wind passing over rather than through. She lay with her hands folded loosely on her abdomen, eyes open, and let the soundscape assemble without assigning it meaning.People were awake.That was all.When she sat up, the valley below had already changed. Smoke rose more decisively now, several threads instead of one, drifting sideways before thinning. The light had sharpened enough to separate shapes—structures clustered near the water, narrow paths worn pale against darker earth, figures moving with purpose rather than urgency.A s

Tyla povMorning arrived with a clean edge.The sky had emptied itself overnight—no lingering cloud, no haze to soften the light. Dawn came pale and precise, outlining stone and shrub and the fine texture of the ground where dew still clung. The air felt newly rinsed, cool enough to sharpen awareness without biting.Tyla woke before the sun cleared the horizon. She lay still for a moment, registering the clarity. Even the quiet felt different here—less layered, more exact. Sounds did not linger. It traveled, then vanished.She rose, packed, and drank, her movements economical and unhurried. The night’s rest had settled something deeper than fatigue. She felt oriented, not toward a destination, but toward herself as a moving point within a larger pattern.She stepped forward as the first light reached her feet.The land shifted again as the morning progressed. The low shrubs gave way to wider spacing, rock emerging more frequently, not clustered now but scattered, each piece distinct.

Tyla povThe path narrowed again after the parting.Not sharply—no sudden constriction—but with a gradual focus that drew Tyla’s attention inward as much as forward. The stream beside her thinned, its voice softening until it became an occasional murmur rather than constant accompaniment. Stone gave way to soil again, dark and newly fed by rain.She walked alone without feeling solitary.The land seemed to breathe more quietly now, as if acknowledging the exchange that had passed and releasing it without commentary. Tyla felt the same. The encounter with Mara did not linger as echo or absence. It settled into memory like a well-placed stone—supportive, not obstructive.Morning light strengthened slowly, clouds thinning into long, pale streaks. The air retained its freshness, cool enough to keep exertion gentle. Tyla adjusted her pace, letting her body set the terms.As the hours arranged themselves, she noticed how differently she held attention now. Once, she would have replayed conv