Morning came softly.

  Not with birdsong or warmth, but with the pale light that slipped through the broken tower walls and rested on stone like it wasn’t sure it belonged there. Kael woke before he meant to. He usually did now.

  Ash was already awake.

  The pup lay near the entrance, head resting on his paws, eyes half-lidded but alert. His ears twitched once when Kael shifted, then settled again when he realized it was only him.

  Kael sat up slowly, stretching stiff muscles. Elin still slept near the far wall, wrapped in the spare hide Kael had given her the night before. She looked smaller in sleep, younger somehow, tension pulled from her face. He looked away first.

  He grabbed the clay pot and stepped outside, Ash rising immediately to follow. The morning air was cool, sharp enough to clear his head. They walked to the river without speaking, the path already familiar beneath Kael’s feet.

  At the water’s edge, Kael crouched and dipped the pot in. Ash lingered close, sniffing the air, circling once before sitting beside him. His tail brushed the ground slow and steady.

  “You don’t miss much, do you?” Kael murmured.

  Ash’s ears flicked, but he didn’t move.

  Kael straightened and turned back toward the tower. As they approached, he noticed Elin sitting up, watching them. She didn’t wave. Didn’t call out. Just observed quietly, as if learning their rhythms.

  She stood when they got closer.

  “I hope I didn’t overstep,” she said after a moment.

  Kael frowned. “About what?”

  She gestured toward the pack he’d left near the wall. His spare clothes lay folded beside it or… not folded how he’d left them.

  Kael stepped closer.

  His pants the ones torn when Ash had been hurt were laid out carefully on a flat stone. The ripped fabric had been pulled together, stitched with thin strips of hide. Uneven, but tight. Strong.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Kael stopped short.

  “I found a bone needle in your things,” Elin said quickly. “I if that’s not okay, I can undo it.”

  He stared at the stitches.

  They were better than he expected.

  Better than he could’ve done.

  “You used hide,” he said.

  She nodded. “It’ll hold. Not pretty. But it won’t tear again easily.”

  Kael swallowed. He hadn’t realized how much he’d gotten used to that tear how it marked a moment he didn’t like remembering.

  “It’s fine,” he said finally.

  Elin relaxed slightly, shoulders easing. “Good.”

  Ash padded forward and sniffed the pants, tail wagging once before he sat beside Elin instead of Kael. She glanced down, surprised.

  “He stays close,” she said quietly.

  Kael nodded. “Most of the time.”

  Elin hesitated, then reached out slowly, stopping halfway as if waiting for permission. Ash leaned forward instead, pressing his head into her palm.

  Her breath caught.

  “…That’s unusual.”

  Kael glanced at her. “How so?”

  She stroked Ash’s fur gently, careful not to move too fast. “Where I’m from, creatures like him don’t stay with people. Not for long. They don’t bond easily.”

  Kael frowned. “You know what he is?”

  “Not exactly,” she admitted. “But I’ve heard stories. They’re not pets. They choose. Or they leave.”

  Ash yawned and settled beside her leg, completely at ease.

  Elin looked up at Kael, something like awe flickering across her face before she hid it. “He chose you.”

  Kael didn’t respond.

  But the words stayed with him.

  The day passed slowly after that.

  They didn’t travel far. Kael checked the tower walls while Elin gathered fallen branches near the edge of the village. Ash moved between them, sometimes watching the forest, sometimes sitting in patches of sunlight like nothing in the world could touch him.

  Elin worked quietly, efficient without rushing. She showed Kael how to soften hide over steam later, how to fold it so it wouldn’t crack as easily. Nothing complicated. Nothing magical. Useful.

  They ate in silence, shared without discussion. When Ash finished first, he sat instead of begging, eyes flicking between them like he was measuring something.

  As the light began to fade, Elin spoke again.

  “I didn’t know much about survival before,” she said, staring into the fire. “At home… there were always others to handle things. Here, I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time.”

  Kael poked at the fire with a stick. “You’re still here.”

  She smiled faintly. “So are you.”

  The forest darkened beyond the tower walls. Fireflies appeared early again, drifting low and slow near the treeline. Ash watched them, ears forward. Kael noticed. He always did now.

  That night, Kael gave Elin a small bundle of straw for bedding. She accepted it with quiet thanks, arranging it carefully near the wall. Not too close. Not too far. Ash curled up between them without hesitation. No one moved him.

  Kael lay back against the stone, staring up at the broken ceiling. He watched the firelight flicker over Elin’s sleeping form, Ash breathing softly between them. He let his hands rest lightly on the ground, feeling the small weight of safety and quiet.

  Nothing about this felt truly safe.

  But for the first time in a long while...

  It felt steady.

  And for now, that was enough.