Pov: Kaelira
I flew low through the trees, laughter in my lungs and leaves in my hair, chased by something faster than the wind
Folding my wings tight to my back, I dropped to the ground. My bare feet barely touched the soil before I took off running, the ground cool and fleeting beneath me.
The wind rushed past my ears.
But the presence behind me was faster.
Closer.
He was gaining.
Sprinting between thick tree trunks, I felt the warm pulse of adrenaline course through me. I've always loved the sensation—the rush, the thrill of being chased, even if it wasn't real danger.
The wind tugged at my hair, wild and black like coal, whipping behind me in messy curls.
And it smelled good. Silksprout, I remembered.
Damian had used it yesterday to wash my hair. When crushed and mixed with water, the plant turned foamy, and sweet-smelling with a hint of fresh rain. I liked it.
A lot.
The forest around me sparkled with life—bright insects the colour of petals flew past, glittering like glass in the light, and the trees hummed.
Somewhere above, a feathered creature let out a note that vibrated in my chest. This world was alive in ways I still didn't fully understand, but I loved it.
Snap.
A branch broke behind me, sharp and sudden.
I didn't look back.
Another crash. A growl. Closer.
Grinning now, I leaped over a fallen log and ducked beneath a vine-laced branch, barely missing the twisting green. I could sense him—his massive form moving through the forest like smoke and thunder.
"Ugh!"
A wall of fur and muscle slammed into me from behind, and we tumbled through the underbrush, wrapped in leaves and laughter.
My wings bent awkwardly under me, and I winced, flailing as we rolled to a stop.
A low growl vibrated against my ribs.
Golden eyes glowed above me, framed by messy black fur and a familiar smirk.
"I know that face," he rumbled. "You're thinking I'm cute again, aren't you?"
I burst into giggles.
He stepped over me with a dramatic huff and flopped down beside me. Damian's massive wolf form—smoky black, imposing, dangerous—looked more like a grumpy pillow right now.
"I don't know how you think I'm anything but terrifying. I miss the days humans would run from me screaming," he muttered.
"Ooh, humans! Tell me about humans!"
His ears twitched.
There it was—my favourite game: ask Damian one million questions until he groans and disappears for three hours.
But sometimes, he answered. And those were my favourite days.
"You want to know about humans?" he asked, one golden eye peeking open.
"Of course!" I wriggled closer and laid my head on his thick fur. "You've told me about the Drakari, the Sylphren, the Fae—but never humans."
"I've told you about humans."
"Nope. You just said they bleed a lot and fall in love too much. That's barely anything."
He sighed. "Alright. Humans... imagine a creature that bleeds easily, breaks easily, and somehow still thinks it runs the world. That's a human. They spend most of their time either falling in love or starting wars."
I blinked. "But they're all the same species, right? Why would they fight each other?"
"They do it because they're scared," he said. "Even though they're all humans, they're all different. And they're not too fond of different."
"They sound awful."
"Some are," he admitted. "But others? Kind, curious, brave. They evolve. Change. Constantly becoming something new. That's the most interesting thing about them."
"Evolve like phoenixes?"
He chuckled. "Sort of. But with more arguing and less fire."
"Do they look like me?"
"Mm… kinda. Not as beautiful." I giggled. "And no wings."
Humans. They looked like me.
That stuck in my mind, tickling something in my chest.
Curiosity. A hunger for connection I didn't quite understand. I'd always felt like a question waiting for an answer.
Maybe humans had part of it.
"Oh no," Damian muttered. "I know that look."
I lifted my head, eyes wide. "Do they sleep like me? Can they fly? When were you last there? Do they have two eyes like us? Do they like flowers? Why are they scared of you? Do they look more like you or me when you're in your other form?"
He groaned. "If you don't ask more questions tonight, I'll bring you a few novels from Nythera tomorrow."
Nythera!
The planet of the Velari. Tall, lily-pad-skinned shapeshifters who devoured knowledge like it was air. Their eyes glowed silver when they were learning something new, which, according to Damian, was always the case. They could turn into anything they wanted—birds, beasts, even furniture once, to see what it felt like to be sat on.
But my favourite thing about them?
They translated everything into readable language, which meant books! Glorious books with strange paper smells and colorful covers. Books that told stories about places I'd never been and people I couldn't wait to meet. Damian said the Velari didn't care much for emotions, but I think anyone who makes sure stories get shared across the stars has to have a soft heart somewhere. Probably deep, deep down. Maybe under their second stomach.
"Deal!" I grinned. "But one more question?"
"One," he relented.
"Can a shapeshifter ever get confused and turn into the wrong thing on accident? Like, trying to be a griffin and ending up as a duck?"
"…Nevermind. Go to sleep."
I let out a short laugh.
Looking up again, I noticed the skies had begun to darken. We'd been running around all day. Damian called it "tag," and I loved tag.
According to him, the rules were simple: the hunter had to touch their prey to win, and then we'd switch roles.
But our version involved a lot more roughhousing than a mere tap. I don't think I've ever actually tagged D with a simple touch.
I like to drop down from the sky onto his shoulders. And he prefers barrelling into me at full speed.
So, I think we were playing our version of the game. And it was fun.
The only reason D ever catches me is because I get distracted.
I have a tendency to get distracted by anything I find curious or interesting.
Damian usually (always) gets upset about it and launches into one of his tangents—about how I shouldn't let myself get distracted, how it could be dangerous, and how one day I'll wander into a trap.
And honestly, I do believe he's right. But it doesn't change the fact that if I see a Luna fly with wings that aren't purple, I will drop everything to chase it.
If I don't, I'll spend hours bugging D about it.
Why is it that colour? Did its parent mate with a flower? Is it a new species of Luna flies? Is it something completely different? Are there more? Is it the first?
Still giggling, I buried my face in his fur and wrapped my arms around him. I shifted to get more comfortable my wings rustled behind me.
"Goodnight, D," I whispered. "Home is where you are."
He huffed softly. "And you're my pack, Kae."
I matched my breathing to his steady heartbeat creating a rhythm that soothed me.
The warmth from his body, the scent of moonflowers in the air, the distant hum of nocturnal life—all of it wove into something that felt like safety.
Not the kind built with walls, but the kind built with presence.
We lay there in the quiet pulse of Bloom. The leaves above us glowed faintly, casting dappled silver light across the forest floor.
I listened to the distant chirps and hums of creatures I'd named myself, my little orchestra of wonder.
The soil was cool against my back. Damian's heartbeat was steady beneath me.
Before Damian came, this planet had been… everything.
My whole world. I named it Bloom because that's what it looked like—green and alive and always growing.
The trees here hum softly if you sit still enough, and the sky changes colour when you sing to it. There are animals with feathers like fire and frogs that glow like stars.
But even with all that beauty, it was also very quiet. Too quiet.
I tried talking to the birds, the rivers, the flowers—I even asked the wind once if it knew my name. But none of them ever answered. I wasn't afraid, just… lonely. I didn't know what I was missing until he fell from the sky. He was loud and grumpy and bleeding all over my favourite moss patch, but he looked at me like I wasn't strange. He talked to me. Teased me. Taught me things.
Bloom doesn't feel like a secret I have to keep to myself anymore now that he's here.
It feels like something big and exciting is about to happen.
Like the whole universe is holding its breath.
And maybe, just maybe… someone out there is like me too.