The morning sun filtered through the windows of the dining hall, casting warm streaks of light on the long oak table set for breakfast. Fenrir rolled his wheelchair into the room with his usual calm, his sharp eyes quickly scanning the setup.
Despite the picturesque scene, there was an undeniable weight in the air—a reminder that the Village of Griphin was never what it seemed.
Madam Vadal, poised and elegant in her human disguise as Lady Angelie, was already seated at the head of the table. Her serene expression belied the razor-sharp intellect lurking beneath.
To her left sat Lysandra, her aura distinctly more relaxed but with an edge of mischief that never seemed to leave her. Both women greeted Fenrir with knowing smiles as he approached.
"Good morning, Fenrir," Madam Vadal said, her voice smooth and measured. "Did you sleep well, or did the weight of your schemes keep you awake?"
