Weary and homesick, there was little more for the girl to do than press on. The more distance she covered, the more often she wondered if it had all been a mistake. Had she not left the Draconid Tribe, her mother and family, she wouldn’t be cold and alone. She would go to sleep each night with a full stomach, then wake up the following morning and attend her lessons. Yet, instead of being surrounded by loved ones, she had allowed for herself to be whisked away by the need to follow some hidden calling—a calling that may or may not be something worth following. The colder it got, the more she considered turning tail and returning whence she’d come, stopped only by the vividness of her dreams; each time she closed her eyes, everything within her mind came to life, making it awfully difficult to ignore. And so, she continued almost begrudgingly, knowing that she couldn’t both abandon her journey and maintain a clear conscious thereafter.

Initially, the plan had been to seek out the cavern previously inhabited by the Ryūjin Tribe. Yet, rather than reaching that seemingly set destination, the yearling had turned at some point in her journey and set out to see the north—unintentionally, truthfully, becoming a mistake that she couldn’t so easily correct. All she could do was embrace her new journey—for the time being, that is—and hope that, when the time came, she’d be able to find her way home. Home. Where was that, though? The cavern? It was where she’d taken her first ever breath, but it was also the place where her family had separated. No longer was there anyone there that she could count on, could turn to for assistance and advice. Going back would mean setting herself up to be all alone, which was, perhaps, the most unpleasant outcome she could think of living through. The thought alone sent a shiver down her spine—or maybe that was the result of being kissed by the night’s chilled lips? No matter, it pushed her to seek shelter, or at least a quiet place where she could think and thoroughly consider her options.

Guided by the stars, Kaori eventually found herself carefully descending rocky staircases and ledges, the terrain fairly familiar to her; it was, by no means, any easier to traverse because of this, it merely gave her the single ounce of confidence that was needed to conquer the challenge at hand. Whilst working her way down, she sensed the danger of her decision. This she did not regret, however, for the sight beheld upon reaching the land below made it all seem worth it—the descent, the risk, even her departure from home. It seemed warmer within the forest’s embrace, the trees providing shelter from the ferocious winds that normally wreaked havoc on the plains. Appreciating the territory, she uttered a quiet, “Thank you,” her words becoming nothing more than a whisper on the wind.

Undoubtedly satisfied with her find the lamb delved deeper into the woodland. What she sought, she knew not until it’d been found: a hollowed space amongst and beneath the roots of a particularly large tree, filled with the stale stench of a wolverine. With the scent being so faint, she presumed it was abandoned and nestled herself right into it. Although she had spent the majority of her life sleeping out beneath the stars, rather than tucked into the earth, the winter and her need to keep warm convinced her to alter her sleeping arrangement. After all, she was alone now, having none other than herself to rely on for warmth—but even being tucked into a den and curled into a tight ball didn’t provide the same warmth that she needed and missed. Saddened and frustrated, she could not sleep, only peer out into the darkness and wish for an opportunity to travel back in time.

Through the night she stared, though she saw nothing. Whilst her eyes remained open, she was not actively recognising the world around her, having been trapped within her own mind. Even after the male had settled down before her, she was unable to acknowledge his presence, oblivious to that which was, quite literally, right in front of her. Unconsciously, she understood that there was something there, but assumed—by the glow of his eyes—it to be nothing more than a few stray glowflies. Not until he’d spoken had she been yanked from the depths of thoughts, startled and needing to blink several times before realising that the glowing orbs weren’t produced by insects. In an instant, her heartbeat increased almost tenfold, a wave of panic washing over her as she took into consideration his words.

Trapped.

Although the word left her terribly unsettled, she forced herself to relax; several deep breaths, coupled with Asterr’s voice repeating through her head, allowed for her to slow her heart back down to a normal pace. Swallowing, she wondered what his intentions might be, only to discard both the question and her answers shortly after. She was so used to searching for the good in others—the exception being her sister, for there wasn’t a single fiber of kindness within her—that she couldn’t think of any negative outcomes, only neutral or positive.

“I will remain here,” she answered steadily. “What will you do?” Leave, she thought briefly, before deciding that, that was mean and he’d done nothing to warrant her being anything less than civil. Still, she couldn’t keep from shifting uncomfortably beneath his gaze, unnerved for reasons she could not pinpoint.

The words sent a soft blow to her heart, her chest tightening as she thought back over her words. Had she been inhospitable? Not necessarily, she decided, but the fact that he’d felt that way suggested that she must have said something unfriendly—had her thoughts been voiced by accident? Certainly not, she couldn’t recall the motion of her mouth being in tune with her conscious. “I am sorry if I have come off as unwelcoming,” she settled on saying. Although her mother was nowhere near her now, the elder Draconid’s teachings remained ever so present, essentially forbidding the yearling from being unkind—which included not offering an apology when someone seemed as if they were owed one.

Surprised and confused by his response, she tilted her head to the side. “Wait for me…?” she parroted, uncertain of what he meant, exactly. “Wait for me to do what? Why?” What was she to do that he must wait for? Surely, he did not mean for her to exit her little hideaway; having become relatively warm, the night’s air would undoubtedly be far more harsh than before she’d wriggled her way into the den. Frowning at the thought, she was made to shake the idea free from her head, focusing back on the male and his voice. “Kaori,” the girl answered. “What is yours?”

With each complaint he uttered, and fault of her’s he pointed out, her ears fell flatter against her skull. Although he had trapped her, he’d yet to do anything else that might suggest ill intentions. She was the one fully at fault, having allowed for fear to control her actions—and lack thereof. “No, no, no,” she rushed out with, her head shaking with each no. “You have done nothing wrong. It was wrong of me to assume the worst—I am sorry.” Oh, if her mother was there! Surely, she would have been scolded for her lack of manners, her rude behaviour. Her actions were inexcusable but rectifiable—and she had in mind already a way to do so.

“Would you like to come in with me?” she asked, ears eagerly popping back up. “It might be a tight fit, but I am sure we can manage.” She had not sought out an especially large location to nestle into, having expected to be alone. Still, it was not impossible for them both to fit. To better show her seriousness, she wiggled over to one side of the burrow, giving him the room to enter, should he choose to do so.

He gave a name but it was not his first, which piqued her curiosity. “What’s your first name?” Kaori asked, gazing at him expectantly. Was it something whimsical? Or perhaps it was a name not meant for the ears of anyone other than himself. Considering that to be a plausible possibility, she added, “You do not have to tell me if you don’t want to.”