The dawn arrived with a muted weight, as if the morning itself had chosen to walk softly across the city rather than announce itself with bright arrogance, and the skyline of Regina rose in the distance like a jagged line cut against a pale sky that refused to fully warm.
Elara stood upon the ridge overlooking the city, the cold biting the edge of her skin though she did not pull back from it, her eyes fixed on the horizon where the rooftops met the fading mist and the faint hum of life began to stir below.
Her hands rested loosely at her sides, fingers slightly curled, not in tension alone but in restraint, as though holding back something she had no name for, something that stirred deeper than instinct and did not answer to calm.
Behind her, Rhea approached without sound, her steps measured and careful, not hesitant but aware, her gaze studying Elara with a quiet intensity that had nothing to do with curiosity and everything to do with concern.
