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But this fox hadn’t just been surviving.

It had gone out of its way to save her.

Leave the creature and be on your way back home.

“No,” Kestrel’s words were quiet, but firm. They silenced the voice in her head long enough for her to see the fox’s eyes twitching open. “Oh, hello there. It’s alright. I have some water for you if you’re thirsty.”

Kestrel tilted the waterskin back, the sky-blue stone of her mother’s signet ring sparkling in the sun. Trapped inside their dark tower, it had never shined so bright as it did now.

The fox seemed to notice it too, for as it lapped at the water, it squinted its eyes shut.

After a few licks, Kestrel set the waterskin down, not wanting to drown the poor creature. She retrievedthe figs.

“Are you hungry? I’m not sure what you eat, but I have some figs.”

Tearing off a small piece, she set the dried fruit atop the pack and let the fox decide. It sniffed it once before licking it into its mouth as well. Kestrel chuckled to herself; maybe Thom had forgotten the meaning of the word nefarious, but this creature wasn’t anything of the sort.

Gently, she dragged her ringed hand through the fox’s fur and?—

The fox yipped and leapt out of her grasp. Cowering, it growled at her, much the way it had growled at the Maw.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—are you hurt? I—I didn’t know.”

The fox’s black eyes glared at her outstretched hands and slowly started backing away.

“No, please don’t go.” Kestrel bolted upright, foolishly startling the animal even more.

Already, the fox was turning on its heels and bounding across the desert once more. Kestrel snatched her pack, instinctually wanting to chase after it. She got a few strides in before she realized how futile that would be. It was a wild animal, not her friend. No matter how grateful she was to it, she would never be able to convince it to trust her; she wasn’t even sure she should want to. It would mean one more mouth to feed, one more being to keep alive when she was clearly struggling with the two lives she’d been charged with already.

With an acquiescent sigh, Kestrel stopped pursuing her savior. She supposed she should just be glad that the fox had made a full recovery and could still run. If it wanted to be on its own, that was probably for the better.

Just as Kestrel was about to turn around and try to figure out what she was going to do next, somethinglarge caught her eye in the distance. It rippled in the heat, a long, brick-shaped lump on the horizon. It reminded her of her tower, only if the tower had been knocked onto its side and painted the color of burnt sand.

Curiosity got the better of her. Kestrel grabbed her pack, and soon found herself walking, jogging, then sprinting to get a closer look. An abandoned fortress erupted into view.

Thom had told her about places like this. Towns and cities where people had once lived together in harmony, now lay utterly vacant and decimated because of the curse that plagued their realm with monsters. They were often the same places where Thom would sometimes seek shelter, if he ever needed to wait out a horde of cursed beasts that roamed the Wilds.

Thom could be hiding somewhere inside.

Maybe he was hurt and needed her help.

With the fortress growing in view, Kestrel slowed to a cautionary gait. If there were monsters inside, she didn’t want to alert them of her arrival by accidentally kicking a loose rock. As she slowed, Kestrel eyed the surrounding area, searching for any signs of trouble—and this time vowing to keep her wits about her.

The closer she got, the more her ears perked.

There was noise coming from beyond the walls. A quiet whirring that grew as she approached. It was unlike anything she had ever heard before, and it wasn’t long before it battled even the familiar roaring of the ocean on a stormy night.

When she was so close she could press a hand onto the clay wall, Kestrel recognized what she was listening to.

An unending tidal wave of conversation.

A cacophony of laughter.

Shouting.

Crying.

Singing.