Marron woke to the sound of hammering.
It was a good sound—steady, purposeful, the rhythm of building rather than breaking. Through the tent fabric, early morning light filtered in soft and golden, and she could hear voices calling to each other, the scrape of lumber being moved, the industrious noise of a community at work.
She lay there for a moment, letting herself wake slowly. Lucy was already awake in her jar, forming lazy spirals. Mokko was snoring softly from his bedroll, one arm thrown over his face. Millie's spot was empty—the rabbitkin was an early riser, probably already up and observing the settlement.
No urgent quest notifications. No pressing dangers. Just... a morning.
