The morning sun spilled through the cracks in the tower walls, painting the stone floor in long, warm streaks. Dust floated in the shafts of light, settling like a thin gray mist. Kael moved quietly, dragging old beams from the attic down to the main room. Each piece of wood groaned slightly under his weight, but it was solid enough just what they needed.

  Elin followed, sweeping loose stones and bits of broken plaster into small piles. She paused, looking around the tower, and then back at the beams Kael had laid out. “We… we can make a bed from that?” she asked, voice uncertain.

  Kael nodded, brushing his hands on his pants. “Sturdy enough. I’ll make a frame first, then pile straw on top. Maybe some of the cloth you saved, for comfort. It won’t be soft like… like a proper bed, but it’ll keep you off the floor.”

  Elin hesitated, fingers curling around a piece of straw. “And you…?”

  Kael shook his head, moving a beam into place and testing its balance. “I’ll take care of myself later. You get the first one.” His hands worked quickly, steady, nailing joints together with quiet precision. Each tap echoed faintly, filling the tower with a rhythm that felt almost domestic after so long in the wild.

  Elin knelt nearby, brushing dust from the floor, then studied the frame. She swallowed, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, fingers twisting the edge of her cloak. “…I—I mean, you could… you could sleep next to me, if you want,” she said finally, voice low and hesitant. “Not… not that I—” She stopped, cheeks reddening, eyes darting to Kael’s hands, then back to the floor. “It’s just… it might be easier than the floor.”

  Kael’s lips twitched, a shadow of a smile. He paused, not because he was offended, but because he understood the weight behind her words. “I… appreciate that,” he said finally, voice soft, almost careful. “But for now, I’ll make sure you have a proper place to rest first. I’ll manage the floor.”

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  Elin’s shoulders relaxed slightly, though her hands fidgeted with the hem of her cloak. “I… okay,” she murmured.

  Kael returned to the work, lifting a second beam and placing it perpendicular to the first. He stepped back, examining the frame from every angle, making sure it would support the weight of straw and cloth. Then he layered the straw carefully, pressing it into corners, tucking it neatly beneath the beams. Finally, he spread the cloth on top, smoothing wrinkles with the back of his hand.

  Elin knelt beside the bed, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. “It’s… nice,” she whispered. “Better than I imagined.”

  Kael nodded once, stepping back to admire the work. “It’ll keep you off the floor, dry and warm. That’s enough for now.”

  Ash padded around the tower, sniffing each post and board before settling near the doorway. His tail flicked slowly, eyes on the forest beyond. Kael followed his gaze, noting the shadows at the edge of the clearing, moving slightly in the wind. Something large and deliberate stirred beyond the trees, but it did not come closer.

  Kael muttered under his breath, “Soon, we’ll need more than fences. If we hunt, it’ll be something big… strong, slow, but worth it.”

  Elin swallowed, glancing at the treeline. “A… moose?” she asked, uncertain.

  Kael shook his head slowly, lips curling in a wry grin. “Maybe. Or something like it. Something that’ll feed us for days if we do it right. We’ll prepare, plan, and wait for the right moment.”

  Elin nodded, absorbing both the reassurance and the warning. “I… I can help,” she said quietly, and Kael caught the determination in her voice but was not sure.

  As the afternoon light softened, the bed stood ready in the corner. Kael stepped back, brushing dirt from his hands. The tower felt different now less ruin, more home. Elin examined it once more, then sat carefully, testing its support with a soft sigh.

  Kael watched her, then turned to check the edges of the clearing through the doorway. Ash remained alert, tail flicking once, ears forward. The forest outside held its secrets, but inside the tower, for a moment, there was order.

  Kael exhaled slowly. Small victories mattered: lines in the dirt, posts in the ground, a bed built from nothing but scavenged wood and straw. Tomorrow, they would tend the garden. Perhaps check the perimeter. And soon, the hunt would follow.

  But for now, they had this safety, comfort, a line of control in a world that had none. And for once, that was enough.