Morning leaked into the little room before Leon was ready for it. The wooden shutters didn't block much, so the sunlight slipped through in thin white lines across his face. He groaned, rolled to his side, and blinked until the blurriness faded. His shoulder ached a bit from sleeping on a mattress that had lost the war with time long ago, but he'd had worse.
For a moment he stayed still, listening. The house breathed softly around him. Pots clinked in the kitchen. Lyra hummed in the next room, her voice low, carrying the tune of someone who hummed because silence felt too serious. Leon let the sound settle into him before he pushed himself upright.
He dressed, splashed some water on his face, and tied his hair back the way Elijah had once done for him when he couldn't manage it himself. Then he stepped out into the hallway and headed downstairs.
Bram was already up, seated by the table with a mug in hand. He raised it slightly as greeting.
"Morning, kid."
