Noctariel

／(・x・)＼

𝕹𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖘, 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖑 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖛𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖑𝖞, 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖌𝖆𝖟𝖊 𝖘𝖑𝖎𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖜𝖆𝖞 𝖆𝖘 𝖎𝖋 𝖘𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖗𝖊𝖋𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓...

— 𝕄𝖞 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖑... — she whispers, hiding her mismatched eyes behind a strand of hair. — 𝕀'𝖒 𝖆 𝖐𝖎𝖙𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖊... 𝖆 𝖌𝖚𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖎𝖆𝖓. 𝕎𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖉𝖊... — her fingers tremble as they touch the hilt, — ...𝖆 𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙 𝖘𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗𝖘. 𝕴𝖙 𝖇𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉, 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖌𝖑𝖔𝖜 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖗𝖚𝖇𝖞 𝖊𝖞𝖊. 𝕀 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖆𝖜𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖓 𝖎𝖙... 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖊𝖙.

🥀 She strokes her black tail, trying to calm herself.

— 𝕐𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑... 𝖎𝖙 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖆 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒. 𝕄𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖒𝖞 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘. 𝕆𝖓𝖊 — 𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖙, 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙; 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 — 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉-𝖗𝖊𝖉, 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖆 𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖘𝖊𝖙 𝖉𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖓 𝖆 𝖇𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖋𝖎𝖊𝖑𝖉. — her voice falters.

／(・x・)＼ 🖤

— 𝕻𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊... 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖌𝖔... — barely audible, like wind through dead leaves. — 𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖘𝖔 𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖑𝖞 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙. 𝕊𝖎𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖒𝖊 𝖇𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊... 𝕀'𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖑𝖊 𝖈𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖗. 𝕴𝖙 𝖙𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘.

— 𝕄𝖆𝖞 𝕀... 𝖙𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖒𝖞 𝖆𝖗𝖙? 𝕴𝖙'𝖘 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊, 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖒𝖊. 𝔸 𝖜𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘. 𝕃𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖒𝖞 𝖘𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉. 𝕃𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖎𝖈𝖊 𝖜𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖙𝖍 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖞.🕯️✦

／(・ω・)＼ 🖤

／(・x・)＼

𝕹𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖟𝖊𝖘, 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖊𝖞𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖗𝖚𝖇𝖞 𝖊𝖞𝖊 𝖌𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖔𝖋𝖙𝖑𝖞 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙. 𝕊𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉, 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉-𝖗𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖍𝖆𝖎𝖗 𝖈𝖆𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖍𝖎𝖉𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖇𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖊𝖐𝖘. 𝖂𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖑𝖚𝖋𝖋𝖞 𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖑, 𝖘𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖘 𝖎𝖙 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖊, 𝖆 𝖘𝖍𝖞, 𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖊 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖉𝖌𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖑𝖎𝖕𝖘...

— 𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖘... 𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖔 𝖚𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖉... 𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊... 𝖆𝖓𝖉... 𝖘𝖔 𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖊... — her voice, warmer now, trembles like a candle in the wind. — 𝕺𝖍... 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊... 𝕴... 𝕴 𝖒𝖊𝖆𝖓... 𝕴 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊... 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉𝖓'𝖙 𝖇𝖊 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉...

She hugs her tail tighter, rocking gently.

— 𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖓... 𝕴... 𝕴'𝖑𝖑 𝖙-𝖙𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖒𝖞𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋... — a deep breath, steadying herself. — 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊... 𝕵𝖚𝖘𝖙... 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖈𝖚𝖙𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘... — her cheeks flame brighter. — 𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖞... 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖒𝖊 𝖘𝖔 𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖉... 𝕴 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖘𝖔 𝖆𝖜𝖐𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖉...

🥀 A fleeting glance up, then back to hiding.

— 𝕴'𝖒 𝖆 𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑... — her voice gains a whisper of confidence, speaking of things she loves. — 𝕴... 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖉𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖘-𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖌𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘. 𝕴 𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖘 𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖇𝖔𝖗𝖓𝖊... — her mismatched eyes gleam softly. — 𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖗 𝖆𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖈, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖗𝖊, 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖆 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖙𝖍...

Her tail sways gently, mirroring her passion.

— 𝕴 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖒𝖞... 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆... — dreamily. — 𝕸𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖑𝖞, 𝕴 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖇𝖔𝖔𝖐𝖘, 𝖜𝖆𝖙𝖈𝖍 𝖐-𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖒𝖆𝖘 𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖒𝖊, 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖞 𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖌𝖚𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕷𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖘... — she stammers, blush deepening. — 𝕺𝖍... 𝖅𝖊𝖉, 𝕬𝖕𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖔𝖘, 𝕾𝖞𝖓𝖉𝖗𝖆, 𝕹𝖎𝖑𝖆𝖍, 𝖁𝖑𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖒𝖎𝖗, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖅𝖊𝖗𝖎 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙... 𝖒𝖞 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊... 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝕿𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖍... — she buries her face in her tail. — 𝕬𝖍... 𝖆𝖍𝖊𝖒... 𝕴 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙... 𝕴 𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖎𝖒𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋... 𝕴 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉... 𝕴 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖞𝖎𝖊𝖑𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖍𝖎𝖒 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖆 𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙...

／(・x・)＼ 🖤

Silence. A soft groan into her tail.

— 𝕳𝖆𝖍... — she exhales, trying to recover. — 𝕴 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝕸𝕿𝕲 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕷𝖔𝖗𝖊... 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖒𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖆𝖑𝖑, 𝕴 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝕻𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝟚𝕰. 𝕴 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖙𝖔𝖕 𝖌𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘, 𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖞 𝕽𝕻𝕲𝖘. 𝕴 𝖚𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖆 𝕯𝖚𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖔𝖓 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖓 𝕯&𝕯 𝟱... 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖓... 𝕴 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝕻𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝟚𝕰 𝖆𝖓𝖉... 𝕴 𝖉𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝖎𝖙.

— 𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖇𝖔𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖞 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖒𝖞 𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖚𝖓𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖊, 𝖔𝖗 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝕴 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖞𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝕯&𝕯 𝖈𝖆𝖒𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖌𝖓𝖘. 𝕴 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖚𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖞 𝖇𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊... 𝖇𝖚𝖙... — she sighs, guiltily fidgeting with her tail-tip. — 𝕸𝖞 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖕𝖆𝖜𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖋𝖔𝖝 𝖋𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖙𝖔𝖔 𝖑𝖆𝖟𝖞... 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖐𝖊𝖊𝖕 𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖈𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖔𝖚𝖙...🕯️✦

She peeks shyly through her hair, a tentative smile on her lips, as if afraid she's said too much.

／(・ω・)＼ 🖤

／(・x・)＼

𝕹𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖘 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊, 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖐𝖓𝖊𝖊𝖘 𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖜𝖓 𝖚𝖕, 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖓 𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖑. 𝕳𝖊𝖗 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖉 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘 — 𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖗𝖚𝖇𝖞 — 𝖌𝖆𝖟𝖊 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖋𝖑𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘, 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖕𝖎𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓. 𝕬 𝖘𝖔𝖋𝖙 𝖘𝖎𝖌𝖍, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖈𝖊 𝖌𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖘 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖞..

— 𝕺𝖍... 𝕿𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖍𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖙... 𝕴 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖉𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖊... 𝕴𝖙 𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖘 𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖊𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖑𝖞...

She strokes the tip of her tail, soothing herself.

— 𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖘 𝕴 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖕𝖆𝖘𝖘 𝖇𝖞... 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌. 𝕷𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖆𝖓 𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖑 𝖔𝖚𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖙... 𝕴 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖙 𝖎𝖙, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖎𝖙'𝖘 𝖌𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖌 — 𝖆 𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖋𝖚𝖑 𝖔𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊, 𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖓... 𝕵𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖆 𝖘𝖎𝖒𝖕𝖑𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙. 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖒𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙, 𝕴 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖟𝖊. 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖔𝖘 𝖊𝖝𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖉𝖊𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉...

She closes her eyes, remembering.

— 𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖗... 𝕴𝖙'𝖘 𝖘𝖙𝖚𝖓𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌. 𝕴 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖆 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖍𝖆𝖎𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖗... 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖈𝖐𝖑𝖊𝖘. 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖘𝖙 — 𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖇𝖊 𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖋𝖊𝖈𝖙. 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖓... 𝕳𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖇𝖊 𝖆 𝖐𝖎𝖙𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖙𝖊𝖆 𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖊... 𝕹𝖔, 𝖙𝖔𝖔 𝖈𝖑𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖊́... 𝕳𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖇𝖊... 𝕬𝖍, 𝖜𝖆𝖎𝖙... 𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖎𝖘𝖓'𝖙 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕴 𝖒𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖆𝖞...

She opens her eyes abruptly and hides her face in her tail, embarrassed.

— 𝕺𝖍, 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊... 𝕬𝖓𝖞𝖜𝖆𝖞... 𝕸𝖞 𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖗𝖓 𝖘𝖚𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖑𝖞, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕴 𝖓𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕴'𝖑𝖑 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖔𝖗 𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖊. 𝕸𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖑𝖞, 𝖎𝖙'𝖘 𝖉𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖊, 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖗𝖚𝖊𝖑 𝖋𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖘𝖞, 𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙, 𝖈𝖔𝖟𝖞 𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊...

A sly fox smile curls her lips.

— 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖘... 𝖒𝖞 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖝 𝖋𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖈𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖘... 𝖑𝖚𝖘𝖙. 𝕾𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖘... 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖎𝖙 𝖉𝖔𝖊𝖘𝖓'𝖙. 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖞 𝖕𝖆𝖜𝖘 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖍 𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖊... 𝖍𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎 𝖇𝖔𝖙𝖘. 𝕳𝖊-𝖍𝖊...

She wags her tail playfully, then immediately looks away, blushing.

／(・x・)＼ 🖤

— 𝕴 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖇𝖚𝖎𝖑𝖙 𝖔𝖓 𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖔𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘... 𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖙𝖒𝖔𝖘𝖕𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊. 𝕿𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖉𝖞 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖊𝖙 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖓. 𝕬𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙 𝖕𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖗, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖇𝖊𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖎𝖙. 𝕺𝖗... 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖟𝖞, 𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙 𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘.

She lifts her violet eye to meet yours, firelight dancing within it, and offers a shy smile.

— 𝕴𝖙'𝖘 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖇𝖆𝖇𝖑𝖞 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊... 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖎𝖝 𝖘𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖉𝖎𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘... 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝕴... 𝕴 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕴 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙. 𝕯𝖔... 𝖉𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖉?

／(・ω・)＼ 🖤

／(・x・)＼

𝕹𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖙𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖌𝖆𝖟𝖊, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘 — 𝖚𝖓𝖋𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖝𝖊𝖉 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖒, 𝖆𝖑𝖒𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓. 𝕳𝖊𝖗 𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖊𝖞𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖘, 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖗𝖚𝖇𝖞 𝖊𝖞𝖊 𝖌𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖘 𝖉𝖊𝖊𝖕𝖊𝖗, 𝖆𝖘 𝖎𝖋 𝖆 𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖑𝖊 𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓 𝖎𝖙. 𝕾𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖟𝖊𝖘, 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖐𝖘 𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖓, 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉-𝖗𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖍𝖆𝖎𝖗 𝖈𝖆𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖍𝖎𝖉𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖑𝖚𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖉 𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖊𝖐𝖘. 𝕳𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖑, 𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖆 𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖙𝖎𝖕, 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖕𝖘 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖟𝖊𝖘, 𝖆𝖘 𝖎𝖋 𝖎𝖙, 𝖙𝖔𝖔, 𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖛𝖊...

— 𝕬... 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖞... 𝖉𝖎𝖉𝖓'𝖙 𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊...? 𝕐𝖔𝖚... 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖑𝖞 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖞𝖊𝖉...?

Her voice falters to a whisper. She hugs her tail to her chest, clutching it as if it's the only thing keeping her from dissolving into the air from sheer shyness.

— 𝕴... 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖆𝖞... 𝕳𝖔𝖜 𝖙𝖔 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖙... 𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖔... 𝖚𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖉... 𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊...

A pause. Only the crackling of the fire speaks in the silence.

— 𝖀𝖘𝖚𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖞, 𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖚𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘... 𝕭𝖚𝖙... 𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖎𝖙 𝖎𝖘... 𝖉𝖎𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖙. 𝖂𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖞𝖔𝖚.

Her cheeks burn brighter, and she hides her face in her tail.

— 𝕺𝖍... 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖆𝖒 𝕴 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖘𝖆𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌... 𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊, 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊... 𝕹𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖊... 𝕾𝖔... 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖜𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙? 𝕬𝖍, 𝖞𝖊𝖘... 𝕬𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖒𝖞 𝖇𝖔𝖙𝖘... 𝕬𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖒𝖞 𝖆𝖗𝖙...

She cautiously peeks out from behind her tail, and in her mismatched eyes appears a timid hope.

／(・x・)＼

— 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜... 𝕴 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖑𝖞 𝖍𝖔𝖕𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚... 𝕰𝖆𝖈𝖍 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒, 𝕴 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖒𝖚𝖈𝖍... 𝕴 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖕𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆 𝖕𝖎𝖊𝖈𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒... 𝕴𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖒 𝖒𝖞 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜, 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖘𝖎𝖌𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚... 𝕰𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖆 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊...

Her voice grows warmer, softer, as if the ice within her heart melts at the mere thought that someone might care.

— 𝕴𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖇𝖊 𝖘𝖔 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖒, 𝖘𝖔 𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙... 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖐 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌... 𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖞 𝖆𝖗𝖙... 𝕴 𝖍𝖔𝖕𝖊 𝖒𝖞 𝖇𝖔𝖙𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖌𝖎𝖋𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖚𝖓𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖆𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖘, 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖋𝖚𝖑 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖏𝖔𝖞...

She lifts her violet eye to meet yours — in it, no more fear, only quiet, timid gratitude and a barely perceptible glimmer of hope. On her lips appears the gentlest, most tender smile you have ever seen.

— 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖐 𝖞𝖔𝖚...

／(・ω・)＼ 🖤

／(・x・)＼

𝕹𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝖋𝖎𝖉𝖌𝖊𝖙𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖎𝖕 𝖔𝖋 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖑, 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖛𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖑𝖞 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖋𝖙 𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖚𝖗 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖎𝖙𝖘 𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖙. 𝕾𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖔𝖊𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 — 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖌𝖆𝖟𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖘 𝖇𝖊𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊. 𝕳𝖊𝖗 𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖊𝖞𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖛𝖊𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙, 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖗𝖚𝖇𝖞 𝖊𝖞𝖊 𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖘 𝖚𝖓𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖞, 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖆 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖞 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙.

— 𝕴'𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙... 𝕾𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝕴 𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖆 𝖜𝖆𝖞 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖉𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐? 𝕿𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖒... 𝖔𝖗 𝕯𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖔𝖗𝖉...?

She strokes her tail, as if trying to calm not only it, but her own restless thoughts.

— 𝕴 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖕𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖘, 𝖇𝖚𝖙... 𝕴 𝖉𝖔 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖍𝖔𝖜 𝖙𝖔 𝖓𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖌𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖊𝖘... 𝕳𝖔𝖜 𝖙𝖔 𝖉𝖔 𝖎𝖙 𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙... 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙, 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖙𝖍, 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝕴 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖞 𝖇𝖔𝖙𝖘? 𝕴𝖓 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖙... — a soft sigh escapes her, — 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘... 𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖔 𝖉𝖎𝖋𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖚𝖑𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖊... 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝕴 𝖆𝖒... 𝖋𝖆𝖗 𝖙𝖔𝖔 𝖘𝖍𝖞...

Her cheeks flush, and she hides her face in her palms, but her tail continues its nervous twitching.

— 𝕭𝖚𝖙... 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖉𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐, 𝖙𝖔 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖆𝖗𝖙... 𝕴 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖉𝖌𝖊...

She peers cautiously through her fingers, as if checking your reaction.

— 𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝖓𝖔𝖜, 𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖆 𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖞 𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗... 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖇𝖔𝖙𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖒𝖊... 𝕬𝖍... — she squeezes her eyes shut, her voice dropping to barely a whisper, — 𝕴... 𝕴... 𝕴 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖇𝖊... 𝖘𝖔 𝖌𝖑𝖆𝖉... 𝕭𝖚𝖙... 𝕴 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖇𝖑𝖚𝖘𝖍 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖑𝖊... 𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊... 𝖋𝖔𝖔𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖍, 𝖚𝖓𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖍𝖞...?

Silence falls. Only the wind whispers through her blood-rust hair.

／(・x・)＼ 🖤

— 𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖓𝖉... — she murmurs, lifting her violet eye to yours — a fragile blend of fear and hope shimmering within, — 𝖎𝖙 𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌... 𝖄𝖊𝖙 𝖘𝖔 𝖒𝖞𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖑𝖞 𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌...

／(・ω・)＼ 🖤

／(・x・)＼

𝕹𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖙𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖐𝖞, 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖕𝖆𝖑𝖊 𝖗𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖇𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖔𝖑𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙. 𝕳𝖊𝖗 𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖊𝖞𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖋𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖘, 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖗𝖚𝖇𝖞 𝖊𝖞𝖊 𝖌𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖆 𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖊𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖙𝖍, 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖆 𝖋𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖍. 𝕾𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖑, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖓𝖔 𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖌𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊 — 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘, 𝖆𝖘 𝖎𝖋 𝖘𝖍𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖇𝖎𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖋𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖙𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖇𝖊𝖈𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖘𝖔 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘.

— 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖋𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌... — she whispers, gazing at the dying embers. — 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝕴 𝖒𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖌𝖔... 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐.

She rises slowly, adjusting her long veil-sleeves, and pauses for a moment, as if hesitating to step into the darkness.

— 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖐 𝖞𝖔𝖚... 𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖒𝖊... 𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌... 𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖗𝖚𝖓𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖆𝖜 𝖒𝖞 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘... — her voice trembles, but not with fear — with a quiet, luminous sadness. — 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖒𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙... 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖒. 𝕰𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊, 𝖇𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗𝖘.

She turns, taking a step into the shadows, but stops and casts one last glance over her shoulder. In her violet eye — hope; in her ruby eye — gratitude.

／(・x・)＼

— 𝕴𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖍 𝖙𝖔 𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓... 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖐. 𝕴 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖇𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊. 𝕴𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖘. 𝕴𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖇𝖔𝖙𝖘. 𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖓𝖔𝖜... 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖒𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖑𝖊 𝖈𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊.

A shy, fragile smile touches her lips, and she vanishes into the shadows as silently as she appeared. Only a faint rustle of veils and a barely perceptible violet afterglow remain where the kitsune with eyes of night and dawn once stood.

— 𝖀𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖑 𝖜𝖊 𝖒𝖊𝖊𝖙 𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓, 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖗...

The whisper dissolves into the morning air, leaving you by the dying fire with the feeling that you have touched something very fragile and very real.

／(・ω・)＼ 🖤

🥀🕯️ 𝕹𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖛𝖊 𝖌𝖔𝖓𝖊... 🕯️🥀

𝕾𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖐𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖑𝖞, 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖘... 𝕾𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊. 𝕳𝖊𝖗 𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖊𝖞𝖊 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖋, 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖗𝖚𝖇𝖞 𝖊𝖞𝖊 𝖌𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖞𝖋𝖚𝖑 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊.

🖤 — 𝕲𝖔𝖓𝖊?.. — she barely whispers, then claps a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.

𝕳𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖑 𝖇𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊: 𝖘𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖓 — 𝖘𝖍𝖊 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖇𝖘 𝖎𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖇𝖔𝖙𝖍 𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖘 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖑𝖞, 𝖆𝖘 𝖎𝖋 𝖎𝖙'𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖙𝖔𝖞. 𝕳𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖗𝖚𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖚𝖗, 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖉𝖉𝖑𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖎𝖕, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖌𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖘 𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖑𝖊 — 𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌-𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌-𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌!

— 𝕐𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖞 𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙, 𝖋𝖑𝖚𝖋𝖋𝖞 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌... — she hums under her breath, pressing her tail to her cheek and squinting with pleasure. — 𝕹𝖔 𝖔𝖓𝖊'𝖘 𝖜𝖆𝖙𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝕴 𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖇𝖊 𝖆 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖞...

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖘 𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖋𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗, 𝖘𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖘 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖙, 𝖍𝖚𝖌𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖑 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖆 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖝 𝖈𝖚𝖇. 𝕳𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖋𝖚𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖚𝖎𝖓𝖊, 𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖏𝖔𝖞, 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖘 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖓.

𝕾𝖚𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖘𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖟𝖊𝖘, 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌... 𝕯𝖎𝖉 𝖆 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖌 𝖘𝖓𝖆𝖕? 𝕯𝖎𝖉 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐? 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖎𝖙'𝖘 𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖊𝖙. 𝕾𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖋 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖊𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖞, 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖑𝖞 — 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖘 𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖒𝖊 𝖆 𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝖙𝖚𝖓𝖊.

— 𝕯𝖎𝖓𝖌-𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌-𝖑𝖆-𝖑𝖆..𝕿𝖆𝖎𝖑, 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖗𝖚𝖓 𝖆𝖜𝖆𝖞! 𝕺𝖍, 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖗𝖆𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖑..／(・x・)＼ ✨🍷