Ridan drifted silently through the open window.
He hovered near the rafters, gaze resting on Hazuki.
The black-haired human sat quietly at the end of the long table, elbow on the wooden surface, cheek resting on his hand. His eyes weren't on the food. They weren't even watching the room.
They were distant. Still.
Watching the kids… but not really seeing them.
Yet something about the scene clearly mattered to him.
The kids—beastkin, elf, human—all laughed around their plates, stuffing their cheeks with meat and bread, dripping gravy and stolen bites from each other's bowls. The din of cutlery, childish arguments, and excited chatter filled the air.
Hazuki just sat there. Not eating. Not drinking.
Just being.
Ridan hovered above him, silent.
Three days.
That was all they had.
Three days to leave this town. Three days to move again.
Because standing still was never part of his path.
And neither was safety.
Ridan's thoughts tightened.
