Moonspear ^____________^

Alaric never failed to rise to the occasion. Treepie curled into a ball as he began his tale, eyes still unfocused but ears pricked to catch every word. His voice soothed her as much as the content of the story.

When he finished, she didn’t speak for a long time. She contemplated the story, particularly the personification of fear. If only Pie’s fear had a face, maybe she would understand it more. If only it had a mouth, maybe it could explain itself to her. She heaved a sigh.

One day, I hope I’m strong enough to move past my fear. Then I’ll be able to tell my own story to help others, she posited.

There was something else that had stuck with her: “Because, after all, fear keeps you alive.” It reminded her of a conversation she’d once had with anaa about pain. Her mother had explained that pain was actually a good thing, a signal to avoid bodily harm.

Maybe her Fear—she began thinking of it as an entity—was trying to warn her about the dangers of the unknown, like Alaric had implied. All Treepie had to do then was reassure it that traveling beyond Moonspear wasn’t necessarily dangerous. Oh, she knew it could be, but provided she took precautionary measures, traveling was a perfectly safe endeavor.

Thanks, Alaric, she thought to say after a long stretch of contemplative silence. You’ve given me a lot to think about, Pie told him, then reached out a foreleg to welcome that cuddle, after all.