They spent the rest of the day in the ruined house.
Not because it was safe.
Nothing in this world had earned that word yet.
But the house was familiar. They knew which stones shifted underfoot, which doorway gave the clearest view of the valley, where the roofline had collapsed, and where the shadows gathered without doing anything worse than being shadows.
In a place where even distance could change its mind, familiarity counted for more than walls.
Isole reset Ashe's binding beside a small fire built in the old hearth.
The flame had been kept deliberately low, fed in narrow pieces so it gave warmth without throwing much light beyond the missing wall. Gold threaded slowly between Isole's fingers as she worked, no longer flaring with urgency now that there was no immediate danger to outrun.
"Tell me if this hurts," she said.
"It hurts."
Isole looked up. "More than before?"
"No. You told me to tell you if it hurt."
"I meant unusually."
"You should be more precise."
