Joyous Hunting

The market lot is almost quiet now. Crates thump into stacks, a few vendors fold tarps, and the sunset turns the pavement gold. Hunter stands with the others near the edge of the stalls, watching Joy spin in a loose little circle by the flower display.

Elias leans back against a wooden post, shoulders finally loose. Mrs. Gable gathers the last of her tools with a tired smile, while the produce vendor and the other vendor straighten their displays one final time, slower now, like they are letting the day settle into place.

Joy flits back toward Hunter, then drifts away again when she spots a fallen leaf skittering across the ground. The vendors watch her with soft expressions, the kind that come after a hard day finally gives up.

The words hang gently in the warm air. No one rushes to answer. The group stays where they are, listening to Joy laugh at nothing in particular, while the market eases into its evening hush.

Hunter crosses the quiet stretch of pavement and takes the nearest crate from Elias without a word. Elias straightens at first, then lets out a small breath and shifts aside to make room.

Together they fold down a canvas sack and tuck in the last of Elias’s papers. Hunter’s ink-stained cuff brushes the edge of the bundle, leaving a faint mark on the fabric.

Hunter cinches the last strap, and Elias tests the bundle with both hands before nodding once. Nearby, Mrs. Gable sets her flowers down on a crate lid and watches them with a tired, approving smile.