It was cold when Ghost awoke, shivering and exhausted. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his eyes and gain some insight into how much time had passed. There was no sunlight yet, but the sky was a dusty grey, as though dawn were approaching. He sighed, and pushed himself into a sitting position with shaking arms. The fact that is was almost dawn told him nothing. It could have been dawn the next day, or a week could have passed during his Hunt. He hoped it was the former, as there was a vague memory of the Wolves starting some kind of war on PM.<br/>Drawing in a shaky breath, his blue-green eyes took in his surroundings. He was still in the forest, which was a good sign. He couldn't have been hunting for more than a couple days at most. What wasn't a good sign was the fact that there was no Hunt Team awaiting his awakening to take him back to HQ. There was another vague memory, one of blood and screams and horrible ripping sounds, but no matter how he tried he couldn't make sense of it.<br/>Ghost knew he wouldn't be able to stand for a short while. The Hunt always took so much out of him, but he was thankful for it. It put the Wolf and its whispers back to sleep for another year. He sighed, resigned to simply waiting on the Team. They had to be close by, right?<br/><br/><br/>It was nearing dawn when the thief awoke again, if the digital clock on the floor next to the small, but comfy, bed were anything to go by. 6:39 in the morning to be exact. He sighed, planting a soft kiss on Cherry's forehead before slowly extricating himself from her embrace, doing his best not to wake her up. He grimaced as he stood. He could feel the remnants of their night together on him still, and walked over to the small bathroom area in the corner.<span style="font-style: italic">So much for not waking her up.</span>He thought, drawing the curtain around the area and turning on the water as hot as it would go. It took a few moments to heat up, but Mallow relished the high pressure of the water against his skin. The thief's body was unblemished, for the most part. There was a long scar down the back of his right arm, from shoulder to elbow, but that was it. Running his fingers over the scar, he gave a light chuckle. He liked to tell stories about it. Sometimes he'd gotten in from a run-in with The Beast, sometimes it was that one of the security guards in a museum he'd stolen from had been a master with a blade. In truth, it was a panicked dive through a broken window that had marred his tan skin.<br/>His ears barely caught the sound of Cherry stirring over the heated spray of the water. "Sleep well?" he asked, shampooing his light brown hair.<br/><br/><br/>Kai slept in for what was probably the first time in several years. Of course, sleeping in for him meant that instead of the clock saying something like 7 A.M. when his mismatched eyes roved over it, it said 8. He sat up on the couch and rubbed sleep from his eyes before standing and stretching. Making his way to the kitchen, he rummaged through the fridge, looking for breakfast.<span style="font-style: italic">Ugh. Not eggs again. Nope.</span>He thought and, finding nothing else that seemed appetizing in the fridge, he moved on to the cabinets.<span style="font-style: italic">Holy shit, pancakes. Fuck. Yes.</span>Mira and Chuck even had a griddle for making said pancakes. The shifter got to work in silence. He wasn't sure why. Normally he would hum to himself while cooking, or turn on some music through his phone. Maybe he was trying not to wake Mira. She'd seemed pretty beat last night, and he figured she needed the extra rest. So why was he making enough pancakes for the two of them?