Morning light slid through the thin curtains and woke Leon before he was ready. His body felt heavy, as if the night had only lasted minutes. He sat up slowly, rubbed the side of his head, and listened.
Another quiet morning in Bram's house.
Another day that didn't promise much.
He stretched, rolled his shoulders, and stepped outside. The air was sharp and cool, the kind that made you breathe deeper without thinking about it. Evergreen stirred slowly around him—birds calling out, wood creaking as the sun warmed it, and distant voices murmuring through the streets.
Leon walked toward the forest first. He always did.
Sylveon was exactly where he had been last night, curled on the thick branch of an old tree, tail hanging lazily off the side. His eyes opened the moment Leon arrived. They glowed faintly in the dim shade.
"You're awake," Leon said.
