I stayed on that glowing root a little longer, letting the forest hum and the spiral settle. Pickles yawned, sending a puff of cinnamon-scented smoke curling lazily into the air. I laughed softly, reaching down to scratch behind his tiny ears—if he had ears, that is. Tiny claws tapped against my hand in a rhythm that felt like applause.

The golden-and-blue threads of the path began to shift subtly, a gentle tug that made me sit up straighter. Not urgent, not alarming—just… insistent. Like the forest was stretching, stretching to show me a new shape, a hint of what was to come.

I felt Aeris again, not as a voice but a touch, a thought brushing the edge of my awareness: It is almost time. The next part of your journey waits. Step carefully.

Pickles darted forward, sniffing at the faint shimmer ahead. One tiny flame danced in his throat before it puffed out as cinnamon smoke, and he gave a happy squeak. I followed, rising slowly, letting the path guide me. Each step felt familiar and new at the same time, like a melody remembered from a dream I’d almost forgotten.

The forest opened just enough to reveal a gentle slope ahead, light spilling in that wasn’t quite sun, wasn’t quite moon—just a quiet glow that felt like it had been waiting for me. My chest spiraled with anticipation, not fear. Not yet.

And I knew, deep in the hum of my chest, that whatever came next, I would meet it with Pickles puffs at my feet and Aeris whispering in threads of thought.