Cold woke Kael before fear did.
Not the sharp, sudden kind but the slow, creeping chill that slipped through cracks in stone and settled deep into his bones. He lay still for a moment, staring up at the rough ceiling of the watchtower as wind whispered through gaps in the walls, carrying the smell of damp earth and ash.
So this is what nights will be like.
Beside him, Ash stirred. The pup lifted his head, gave a quiet huff, then shifted closer until his side pressed firmly against Kael’s leg. His fur was warm warmer than Kael expected and for a moment, Kael almost laughed at how quickly he’d come to depend on that small, living heat.
Almost.
Kael sat up slowly, rubbing his arms as the cold lingered. The tower wasn’t shelter. Not really. It was a suggestion of one stone standing only because it hadn’t yet been told to fall.
He rose and walked the interior, careful where he placed his feet. His eyes traced the damage he’d ignored until now. Missing stones. Cracks wide enough to slide his fingers into. Wind slipping in wherever it pleased, brushing his skin like an unwelcome hand.
“If this keeps up,” he muttered, “winter will kill us before anything else does.”
Ash’s ears flicked at the sound of his voice.
Kael exhaled slowly and made a decision.
Today wasn’t about hunting. It wasn’t about the forest or what lurked inside it.
Today was about this place.
The village felt different in daylight.
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Still silent. Still abandoned. But now Kael walked through it with purpose instead of fear. He moved slowly between collapsed homes and half-standing walls, studying them instead of avoiding them. He knelt beside one of the sturdier ruins and ran his fingers along the stonework.
Stacked carefully. Not random.
Someone had known what they were doing.
He searched methodically, lifting stones, testing their weight, knocking away dirt and roots. He kept the ones that felt right not too heavy, not crumbling, edges worn smooth by time rather than broken by it.
Ash padded after him, nose close to the ground. He paused now and then to sniff at something unseen, ears twitching, body alert.
“You’d be terrible at this job,” Kael said quietly.
Ash sneezed and wagged his tail once.
Kael found more than stone. Broken clay fragments. Wooden beams rotted beyond saving. And near what might once have been a storage house, he found something that made him stop.
Mortar residue.
Barely visible, pale and brittle, crumbling between his fingers.
So they used something to bind the stone.
That mattered.
It meant he wasn’t guessing blindly. It meant there was a way if he could figure it out.
By the time the sun climbed higher, Kael had gathered a small pile of usable stones and a head full of problems he didn’t yet know how to solve. He carried what he could back toward the tower, Ash trotting beside him, alert but calm.
Halfway there, Ash stopped.
His body went rigid. Tail lowered. Eyes locked on the treeline.
Kael followed his gaze.
Nothing moved.
Still, unease crawled up his spine.
“Don’t start that,” Kael muttered, more to himself than Ash. “Not today.”
Ash held still for a few seconds longer then relaxed and followed again.
But the feeling didn’t leave.
Back at the tower, Kael stacked the stones against the wall and sat down heavily. Sweat cooled quickly on his skin, the chill creeping back in.
Not today, then.
Not fixing yet.
But preparing.
He looked around the tower again at the holes, the drafts, the uneven floor. For the first time, it didn’t feel overwhelming. Just… unfinished.
“I’ll figure it out,” he said softly. “One wall at a time.”
Ash settled beside him, leaning into his leg.
Kael rested a hand on the pup’s head and let the silence stretch.
Somewhere beyond the trees, something watched.
Or maybe it didn’t.
Either way, Kael knew one thing for certain now:
This tower would become a home.
And homes were worth defending.
