Elara POV:
Morning finishes waking the land as I reach the border.
Mist still clings to the low ground, pale and thin, curling around my calves as I slow from a steady run to an easy stop. My breath is even, controlled, the pleasant burn in my muscles earned rather than punishing. Running like this clears my mind in a way nothing else does. Human form, feet striking earth, body answering itself without translation or instinct demanding more than I’m willing to give.
I know he’ll be here. Not because of the bond, though it hums quietly, patient and persistent, but because Caelan is nothing if not deliberate.
He waits just inside his territory, bare-chested, dark athletic shorts riding low on his hips, skin damp with sweat that catches the early light. He’s clearly run hard enough to mat
