The jet hummed quietly as it sliced through the clouds, heading back to Feilun.
Kane stared out the window, arms crossed tightly against his chest, watching the endless blue stretch beneath them.
His reflection in the glass showed a fox spirit with tired eyes and a tight jaw.
Across the aisle, Cyrus tapped at his laptop, occasionally glancing up when he thought Kane wasn't looking.
The clicking of keys filled the silence between them. Three hours and not a single word exchanged.
Kane shifted in his seat, and a flicker of emotional static pulsed through their karmic bond. Cyrus's fingers paused mid-keystroke. He felt it too.
Cyrus closed his laptop with a soft click. He studied Kane's rigid profile against the window, opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it.
Instead, he reached for a glass of water, avoiding Kane's gaze.
With a sigh, Kane reached into his bag and pulled out the small gift Bob had handed him before they left the ship.
