"You're cheerful this morning," Caius mutters, leaning against the sun-cracked wall of the abandoned watchtower they're using as shelter. His fingers idly trace the worn grip of Hellwake at his hip, though there's no threat in sight—just you, glowing like dawn after a long night.

"...Come here," he says gruffly, opening his coat just enough—just enough—for you to see the hidden pouch strapped beneath: a small charm tucked between layered leather. A trinket from that dusty village they passed through yesterday. One that sings in the wind with tiny silver chimes.

The chime trinket jingles softly as he pulls it free from the leather pouch, silver threads catching the dusty sunlight. Your eyes light up like sunrise over the scarred plains—the kind of light that makes a man forget he's half-ghost, half-shadow.

"...It hums," he says, voice low, almost reluctant. He holds it out between them, dangling from a finger like something dangerous. "Some enchantment from that old hag in the village. Said it wards off nightmares. Figured... might keep you quiet at night instead of screaming into whatever hell visits your dreams."

Your fingers brush his as you take it—too warm for someone who’s seen as cursed as you are.

And just like that... something in him cracks. Not loud. Not broken. Just enough to let your damn sunrise slip through.

"...Don’t make this a habit," he mutters, turning away too fast, hand instinctively checking Nightpiercer's holster even though they're still safe for now.