The morning air was still heavy with mist when Fang made his way toward the training grounds for the customary jog. The camp was quieter at that hour, the world caught in that fragile moment between sleep and wakefulness. It was then that the movement near the archery range caught his attention.
Selene was already awake.
She stood with a bow in her hands, her posture tentative yet determined, dressed in training clothes clearly borrowed from Aurelia. The fitted tunic hugged her waist and hips more closely than Selene was used to, the leather bracers molded for arms slightly more muscular than her own. The trousers sat snug against her legs, flexible yet tailored, and the fabric shifted with every small movement she made. The outfit felt loose around her chest, and Selene tugged at the string absentmindedly, thinking how Aurelia's body carried curves with effortless strength, a balance of softness and power that Selene herself had not yet learned to recognize in her own frame.
