The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of river and stone. Kael stepped outside and stretched his back, eyes already scanning the ground around the tower.

  The ruins of the village lay quiet. Broken walls cast long shadows across the clearing, their shapes distorted by the early light. Nothing moved but after yesterday, silence felt less like peace and more like waiting.

  Ash trotted ahead, nose close to the ground, ears twitching at every sound the forest offered and a few it didn’t.

  “Elin,” Kael called, his voice low but steady. “Bring the boards and nails from inside. We’ll need them for the posts.”

  She emerged a moment later, moving carefully, arms full of salvaged materials. The patched pants Kael had worn yesterday were folded neatly and tucked into her pack. Her hands lingered on the fabric for a heartbeat before she adjusted the strap and stepped closer.

  Kael crouched near the tower’s edge and pressed his palm into the dirt, feeling past the dry topsoil to the firmer earth beneath. He dragged his fingers through it, drawing faint lines.

  Measured. Intentional.

  “The posts need to be close enough to hold together,” he said, tracing another line parallel to the first, “but spaced so we can move around them. This is the outer edge. Crops go inside. Fence outside.”

  Elin knelt beside him, brushing loose dirt away so the lines were clearer. “Like this?” she asked, following his markings carefully.

  Kael nodded. “Yes. That way, we see everything. Hear everything.”

  Ash paced the perimeter as if testing the idea himself. Every rustle of leaves made him pause, crouch, then relax again. Kael noticed and without a word, Elin did too.

  They worked in silence for a while.

  Kael showed her how to set the boards, how to angle them slightly so they resisted pressure instead of snapping under it. He demonstrated how to strike the nails with steady, controlled blows rather than force.

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  Elin copied him closely. Careful. Focused.

  She stumbled once, dropping a board as it slipped from her grip. Kael’s hand shot out, steadying it before it hit the ground.

  “You’ll break your nail if you hit too hard,” he said quietly. Then, after a beat, added with a small grin, “Don’t worry. They’ll hold.”

  She smiled faint, almost shy before turning back to the next post.

  As the sun climbed higher, Kael marked each position with a practiced eye, lining the posts with the faint lines in the dirt. At one point he glanced at Ash.

  “Circle the outside,” he murmured. “Make sure nothing sneaks up on us.”

  Ash obeyed immediately, weaving through the edges of the clearing, sniffing, ears flicking toward the forest.

  That was when Kael saw it.

  Movement near the treeline. Not fast. Not careless.

  Deliberate.

  “Do you see that?” he asked, calm but low, nodding toward the trees.

  Elin stiffened and stepped closer, fingers tightening around the boards in her arms.

  Kael crouched slightly, resting his hands on his knees. Watching.

  “Probably just a deer,” he said after a moment, though his eyes never left the shadow. “Or a fox.”

  Elin hesitated. “Do you think”

  “I’ll keep us safe,” Kael interrupted gently. “Just watch. Learn. Stay close.”

  She nodded, swallowing, and they returned to their work.

  The hammering continued, slower now. More deliberate. Ash remained at the edge, letting out a low growl once at a sound Kael barely registered.

  Hours passed.

  The fence began to take shape rough, uneven, full of gaps Kael already planned to fix later. He tested each post, tugged at the rope, adjusted knots where the fibers threatened to slip.

  It wasn’t just a boundary in the dirt anymore.

  It was something you could feel.

  Elin knelt beside one of the posts, brushing soil back into place. “You… you think this will work?” she asked quietly.

  Kael rested his hand on the top of the post. “It’ll slow them down,” he said. “Give us warning. That’s all we need for now.” He glanced at her. “You’re learning fast.”

  She looked up, meeting his eyes. “I want to,” she said. “I want to help.”

  Kael nodded once. “Good. That’s enough for today.”

  As the afternoon light shifted, shadows stretched across the clearing. Kael stepped back and surveyed their work.

  A partial ring of posts. Rope pulled tight in some places, loose in others.

  Ash curled near the fence line, eyes scanning, ears flicking.

  “It’s a start,” Kael said quietly. “Not perfect. But it’s ours.”

  Elin leaned against the tower wall, wiping her hands on her tunic. “And we’ll keep it that way.”

  A faint rustle came from the far edge of the clearing.

  Kael tensed, hand brushing the shaft of his spear but the sound moved away, swallowed by the forest.

  Ash let out a single low bark, then settled again.

  Kael’s gaze lingered on the treeline.

  The fence was just the beginning.

  But for the first time since the wisent fell, he felt like they weren’t only reacting anymore.

  They were choosing where the line stood.

  For now, that was enough.