Kalel
I was saying "perhaps" a lot lately. Not just saying it—thinking it, like some kind of internal diplomat negotiating with my own impulses. Three weeks ago, I'd have punched through drywall over a minor disagreement. Now I was considering "alternative conflict resolution pathways" and "optimal communication strategies."
Lysander was apparently contagious.
"Perhaps we could rearrange the training schedule to accommodate the tinkerers' boundary reinforcement project," I heard myself suggesting to Ransom, who stared at me like I'd sprouted a second head made entirely of marshmallows.
"Who are you and what have you done with Alpha Kalel?" he asked, only half-joking. "The real Kalel would've told them to work around us or get stepped on."
I sighed, golden-silver energy pulsing around
