The morning after the split felt wrong.
Not quieter.
Not louder.
Organized.
Aurelia sensed it as soon as she woke—the subtle alignment of movement beyond the ravine, footsteps that no longer wandered but followed patterns. Fires were rebuilt in deliberate places. Watches established without discussion. Decisions made without argument.
Someone had begun structuring refusal.
She sat up slowly, eyes scanning the camp.
Kerrin's absence was obvious—not just in who had left with him, but in what had replaced them. Those who remained moved with careful coordination, glancing toward one another before acting, as if checking for permission they would never name aloud.
Lio noticed it too.
"They're planning," he muttered, joining her near the fire. "I don't like it."
"No," Aurelia agreed. "They're rehearsing."
Seris approached moments later, expression grim. "They've formed a perimeter."
Aurelia looked at her sharply. "Without discussion?"
"Yes."
