The first argument started before noon.
Aria heard it from the kitchen.
Not a shouting match. Not yet. Just the low, tight voices of two wolves who had both survived the last week and now disagreed about what came next.
That was how rebuilding began.
Not with peace.
With friction.
Aria stood at the counter slicing bread while the conversation in the next room slowly sharpened.
"They're still out there," one voice said.
"So are we," another replied.
"That's not the same thing."
"Maybe it should be."
Aria set the knife down.
Kai looked up from the stove where he was stirring a pot of something that smelled like onions and broth.
"Intervene?" he asked quietly.
Aria listened for another second.
Then she shook her head.
"Not yet."
Kai nodded once and returned to the pot.
The house had filled overnight.
