Nina strolled down the quiet sidewalk, her schoolbag slung over one shoulder and Fenrir trotting happily ahead of her.
The sun was low, casting long shadows across the street. The scent of home lingered faintly in the air—fresh bread from the bakery around the corner, someone's laundry flapping on a rooftop.
It should've been peaceful.
But it wasn't.
Halfway down the block, Nina felt it—that subtle tingle at the back of her neck, like someone was brushing a thread of magic across her skin.
She slowed her steps, eyes scanning the reflections in the windows they passed. There. A glimpse of movement. A pair of figures lingering just far enough back to avoid suspicion.
Nina let out a quiet breath and tilted her head.
"You feel that?"
She asked, her voice low.
[I do. You're being followed. Two people. Clumsy. Not very well-trained.]
Her Patron answered, casual as ever.
"And you didn't think to mention this?"
