Silver found her father at the edge of the eastern terrace, where the stone gave way to forest and the world softened into green and shadow.
He stood with his hands resting on the railing, gaze distant, as if listening to something only he could hear. The wind stirred his hair, silver threaded through dark, the same color as her own when the light caught it just right.
He didn’t turn when she approached.
“You’re walking like you’re afraid the ground might move,” he said calmly.
Silver stopped a few steps behind him. “It feels like it might.”
That earned her a slow glance, measured and thoughtful. He took in her posture, the tension in her shoulders, the way her wolf hovered close to the surface without fully rising.
“Then come stand beside me,” he said. “The ground is steadier when s
