Where Light Finds the Lost

The bird's feathers became silk, wings became arms, and where the creature had perched now stood a woman—tall, elegant, draped in feathered robes the color of midnight. Her hair, long and dark as the void itself, cascaded over one shoulder, threaded with violet strands that shimmered like distant stars.

She smirked down at the girl.

"Can't even greet your elders, huh?" The woman clicked her tongue, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. "But I'll forgive you—since you're this cute."

Without waiting for a response, she leaned in, pressing her cheek against the girl's with a playful nuzzle. Her skin was warm—too warm for this frozen place—and the scent of violets and something sharper, like lightning, clung to her.

The girl didn't pull away.

But she didn't lean in, either.