Leon woke before the sun. It happened naturally now, not because he wanted to, but because his body understood this routine better than it understood sleep. The small room smelled like wood and cold air, and his blanket had twisted around him in the night. He sat up, rubbed a hand across his face, and listened.
The house was quiet. Bram snored faintly through the wall. Lyra hadn't left her room yet. Something about that cold, still silence felt steady. Predictable. Leon wasn't used to that. He took a slow breath, stood, and grabbed his boots.
He checked on Sylveon first, as always. The forest path was damp with morning dew, and the sun hadn't quite broken the horizon. Sylveon lifted his head when Leon stepped into the clearing. His ears perked, tail flicking once in a lazy greeting.
"You look like you slept better than I did," Leon murmured.
