The sun was still low over the village when Y/n returned from the morning patrol, the scent of pine and cold river water still clinging to their skin. A few villagers called out greetings, Omegas balancing woven baskets of herbs on their hips, pups tumbling through the dirt in shrieking packs. It was a good morning. A quiet morning.

Too quiet.

Y/n had barely made it past the eastern garden beds when something came hurtling out of the tall grass like a golden-furred boulder.

The impact was solid, practiced, and entirely expected. But this time, Denki didn't just bounce off. He dug in, arms locked, tail lashing behind him for balance.

He smelled like honey and sun-warmed grass. And excitement. So much excitement.

His fingers curled into the front of Y/n's hunting tunic, ears twitching, tail wagging so hard it thumped against Y/n's thigh with each shake.