The first rays of dawn crept through the winndow as I stirred from sleep.
I then headed back of the house for my morning routine as always. When I finished, my muscles hummed with that pleasant ache of exertion. Then I washed myself.
After drying myself and changing into clean clothes, I made my way back inside. The house still held the quiet stillness of early morning, but something felt different today—heavier, more charged with unspoken tension.
I found Rosaluna in the living room. She sat motionless at our wooden table, her pink eyes fixed on some distant point beyond the window. She was already dressed in her training attire—practical leather boots, fitted dark pants, and a tunic that allowed for easy movement during her sessions with Isadora.
But despite being ready for training, she seemed lost in a world of her own thoughts.
If she continued sitting there like this, she would definitely be late for her training session with Isadora.
"Big sister," I called her.
