The kitchen had rules.
They were not written down, but they were enforced consistently and with confidence. Food belonged in certain places. Surfaces had meanings. Chairs were not invitations.
Pebble learned this immediately.
She learned where food was not supposed to be. The counter. The table. The moving space between hands and mouths. She learned these boundaries through repetition and disappointment.
Mohg learned something else.
He learned where crumbs appeared without asking. Beneath the table. Along the edges of the room. In the places people stood while talking and forgot to finish what they were holding.
Mohg positioned himself accordingly.
Pebble waited.
She watched the rules being applied unevenly. Food never fell for her. It fell near her. She noticed this distinction and objected to it quietly at first, then with increasing speed.
Mohg continued his studies.
He discovered that crumbs were generous. They arrived late. They rewarded patience. They did not require looking up.
Pebble observed this.
She stopped testing the counter. She stopped testing the chairs. She watched Mohg instead.
When a piece of food finally fell — not far, not deliberate — Pebble waited.
Mohg did not move.
Pebble reached it calmly.
No alarms sounded. No voices changed. The kitchen remained itself.
Pebble sat down again, satisfied.
The rules had not changed.
She had.
