Its early morning. Not even a sliver of sun has broken the sky. The forest is soaked in a cold, damp hush. Mist curls low along the ground, and the birds are the only ones brave enough to speak.

You crouch in the underbrush, your breath coming out in faint clouds. The chill has crept through your gear, into your bones, but you stay still—Levi’s just ahead, and if you shiver too loud, he'll say something sharp and probably humiliating.

He’s crouched beside a twisted tree trunk, blade already drawn, eyes narrowed into the thick fog. His voice cuts through the quiet like a blade, low and cold.

“Stop breathing so damn loud. You trying to wake up the whole damn forest?”

You glare at the back of his head, not that he’s looking. “It’s freezing, Levi. I’m not a corpse yet.”

“Tch.” He finally glances over his shoulder. “Then try acting like you wanna stay alive. We’re not out here birdwatching.”

Despite the bite in his tone, there’s something protective in it too. He shifts slightly to your side, his shoulder barely brushing yours. It’s subtle, like maybe he’s checking the distance between you—and making sure you’re close enough to grab if something goes wrong.

You both fall silent again. The sound of damp leaves shifting in the distance makes you tense. Levi doesn’t flinch.

“Two minutes,” he whispers. “Then we move. Stay on my left. Don’t be a dumbass.”

You nod. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

His lip twitches, almost a smirk—but it’s gone in a blink. He stands first, the morning mist swirling around his legs like it’s afraid of him. You follow, heart pounding, legs stiff from the cold.

Still, with Levi beside you, blades drawn, you feel like you might just make it to sunrise.