"You said training helps clear your head. So I'm clearing mine."
He blinked once.
Just once.
A pause. A tick of breath caught between two people who didn't know how to speak to each other without bleeding.
And then—
Lucavion tilted his head to the side, just slightly.
A breath escaped him—not a scoff, not a smirk.
A laugh.
Quiet. Dry. No cruelty behind it.
His eyes slipped shut for the barest second as he shook his head, almost to himself.
"I guess," he murmured, "that works like that."
She didn't look away. Not even when his mouth quirked in that unreadable way again, not amused exactly—but something faintly acknowledging. Maybe regret. Maybe not.
He lifted his chin, black hair sweeping across his brow with the wind.
"Yes," Elara said flatly. "That works like that."
Lucavion's faint amusement didn't faze her. If anything, it only fanned the fire under her ice. She stepped forward, a half pace, deliberate.
