The scent of frying dough drifted through the windows before the sun fully climbed over Yin City's rooftops.
Feng Jiao Xue sat by the low wooden table near the window, the sleeves of her robe neatly folded as she carefully poured warm tea into two chipped cups. The innkeeper had offered breakfast in exchange for a few extra coins, and she had agreed without much thought. They needed something hot. Something grounding.
Across from her, Mo Tianze blinked sleepily, still adjusting to the light. His silver ears twitched at the sounds of the city coming back to life beyond the walls, merchants setting up stalls, wheels creaking over cobblestones, hawkers calling out.
His tail swayed slowly behind him, loose and relaxed for once.
"Did you sleep well?" she asked without looking up.
"Well enough," he murmured, rubbing at one eye with the back of his hand. "Better than yesterday, at least."
