The morning sun cast a pale glow over the frost-covered farm, its stillness punctuated by the sounds of hammering and the occasional grunt of effort. It had been three weeks since Ronan had joined the group. Though his sharp tongue had softened somewhat, the weight of his exile still clung to him like a shadow. He worked alongside Alexander, the two of them repairing a stretch of the fence that bordered the pasture.

“You’re swinging like a farmer, not a fighter,” Ronan said, his tone gruff as he tightened the ropes securing the fence post.

Alexander scowled, adjusting his grip on the hammer. “And you’re criticizing like someone who’s never done this before.”

Ronan snorted, leaning into the post to check its stability. “Where I come from, we don’t waste time with half-measures. That board’s not going to hold if you keep tapping it like you’re scared of breaking it.”

“I’m not scared of anything,” Alexander retorted, his blue eyes narrowing as he slammed the hammer down with deliberate force. The nail went in slightly crooked, and he muttered under his breath before adjusting it.

Ronan crossed his arms, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You talk a lot for someone who’s still learning to use a hammer.”

“And you act like you’re better than everyone else,” Alexander shot back. “Funny, considering where you ended up.”

For a moment, Ronan’s expression darkened, the reminder of his exile stinging more than he cared to admit. But then he chuckled, the sound low and guttural. “At least I can fight. Can you say the same?”

Alexander’s jaw tightened, but he refused to back down. “Why don’t you find out?”

Ronan raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “Maybe I will.”

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Nearby, Gabriel stood with his arms crossed, observing the exchange with a faintly amused expression. “Are you two going to finish that fence, or should I start counting the minutes until it collapses again?”

Sorin, lounging against the barn wall with his ever-present notebook, chuckled. “My money’s on the fence collapsing before they finish. Any takers?”

Alexander shot Sorin a glare but didn’t rise to the bait. “At least I’m trying. Unlike some people.”

Sorin grinned, clearly enjoying the tension. “Hey, I’m here to provide commentary. Very important role.”

Ronan snorted, shaking his head as he returned to his work. “Talk is cheap.”

Gabriel sighed, rubbing his temples. “If you spent as much time working as you do arguing, this farm would be twice the size by now.”

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By midday, the group gathered under the shade of the crooked oak tree for a brief rest. The air was filled with the smell of earth and hay, mingling with the faint crackle of a nearby fire pit.

Alexander leaned back against the tree trunk, his hands calloused but steady from the morning’s work. He glanced at Ronan, who sat nearby, sipping from a flask of water. “For someone who keeps bragging about being strong, you don’t seem in much of a hurry to finish anything.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “You’ve got a lot to say for someone who barely knows how to hold a hammer.”

Alexander shrugged, his expression calm but defiant. “At least I’m not the one sulking under a tree because he got kicked out of his clan.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and Alexander wondered if he’d gone too far. But then Ronan chuckled, low and rough. “You’ve got fire, I’ll give you that. Too bad it won’t fix your fence.”

Alexander allowed himself a small smile, the tension between them easing slightly.

Sorin, watching the exchange, grinned. “Aww, look at that. They’re bonding.”

“Don’t push it,” Ronan muttered, though there was no real bite in his tone.

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Later in the day, the group settled by the fire as the sun dipped below the horizon. The earlier tension had given way to a tentative camaraderie, though the scars of their pasts still lingered beneath the surface.

Gabriel, sitting on a log with his arms resting on his knees, glanced at Ronan. “You’ve been here three weeks. Starting to feel like home yet?”

Ronan snorted, poking the fire with a stick. “Home’s not the word I’d use. But it’s better than wandering.”

Alexander, sitting across from him, chimed in. “You’ve got a strange way of saying ‘thank you.’”

Ronan smirked, his magenta hair catching the firelight. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, noble boy. I didn’t say I was grateful.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, his tone dry. “If you’re done with the banter, we’ve got real work to do. This farm doesn’t run itself.”

Sorin leaned back, his notebook resting on his chest. “You know, for all the complaining, this place isn’t half bad. Maybe we should actually try to make something of it.”

Gabriel shot him a flat look. “We already are. It’s called survival.”

Alexander, his gaze thoughtful, spoke up. “It’s more than that, though. We’re building something here. It’s not much, but it’s ours.”

Ronan glanced at him, his expression unreadable. “You’ve got a lot of hope for someone who just learned how to drive a nail.”

“And you’ve got a lot of bark for someone still sitting under this tree,” Alexander countered, his tone even.

For a moment, the two of them stared each other down, but then Ronan chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, fair enough.”

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As the fire burned low, the group fell into a comfortable silence. The fragile bonds they’d begun to forge felt stronger now, though none of them would admit it out loud.

Jordan, who had been quiet for most of the evening, finally spoke. “You’re all stubborn,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “But that’s not a bad thing. Stubbornness keeps you alive.”

Gabriel glanced at him, his green eyes narrowing slightly. “Or it gets you killed.”

Jordan met his gaze evenly. “Depends on how you use it.”

Alexander, staring into the flames, felt a flicker of something he hadn’t felt in years—hope. Despite their rough edges and constant bickering, this group was starting to feel like something more. Maybe not a family, but something close enough.

Gabriel, noticing Alexander’s expression, smirked faintly. “Don’t get ideas, noble boy. This isn’t some grand adventure. It’s survival.”

Alexander met his gaze, his blue eyes steady. “Maybe. But survival can be the start of something.”

Gabriel didn’t reply, though his expression softened slightly.

As the stars blinked into existence above, the group sat quietly around the fire, the fragile harmony they’d built enough for now.