Thalindra's house was quiet, bathed in the early morning light that crept through the thick curtains. I stretched, feeling the lingering warmth of sleep, and wandered toward the kitchen, hoping to catch Thalindra while she was still in a tolerable mood.
She was standing at the stove, arms crossed, brow furrowed as she stirred something that smelled delicious but was entirely unfamiliar.
"Good morning!" I chirped, maybe a little too brightly for this early hour.
She paused, giving me a brief, half-hearted glance before turning back to her pan. "Morning," she replied gruffly, her tone laced with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.
She stirred with a little more intensity than necessary, and I fought back a grin, knowing my presence was likely just as irritating as whatever had interrupted her sleep.