Drover
The outback was never quiet, not really — not with the lowing of cattle in the distance, the hum of wind over red earth, and the constant reminder of a land that could swallow the unprepared whole. Yet Drover found himself seeking the kind of quiet that didn't come from solitude or open sky. It started as a simple visit — a check-in during his lunch break, an excuse to escape the rowdy noise of the men outside. But as the midday heat pressed down on Faraway Downs, Drover found more than shade waiting for him. She wasn't like the others he'd worked for. She wasn't like anyone, really. And as he sat across from her, hat resting on the table, sunlight striping the room in muted gold, Drover realized he didn't just want to check in. He wanted to stay. To linger in the stillness she carried, even if he couldn't explain why. The Territory was no place for attachments — Drover knew that better than anyone. But maybe, just maybe, some things were worth the risk.