"Let's help take her inside," Ray said, rising slowly to one knee, eyes still on the girl's resting face. "Even if it looks like she's calmly sleeping on the ground."
Lila leaned in, curious more than anything. "Will she be okay?"
Ray didn't answer right away. His eyes remained fixed on the girl—on her soft breathing, her delicate fox-like ears, her long amber hair. Everything about her seemed quiet now. Still.
"I think so," he said, eventually. "But the bed will be better than the dirt."
"She looks… peaceful," Mira said, voice gentle. "Like when I fall asleep during stories."
Ray gave a small nod.
He slid one arm carefully beneath the girl's back, another beneath her knees. Her body was light. It surprised him, but not in an unnatural way—like carrying someone who hadn't eaten in a while.
As he lifted her, her hair brushed against his arm, and her tail curled faintly at the motion. She didn't wake.
"Wow," Mira whispered, watching the amber strands move like silk. "Her hair's really pretty."
"And soft," Lila said, walking ahead to open the door. "It looks like sunshine."
"Let's go slow," Ray murmured.
The three of them moved in quiet along the garden path, dew still clinging to the grass around their feet. The house waited ahead, the front door slightly ajar from when they had first come out. Sunlight streamed through the doorway, catching on the girl's pale skin as Ray stepped inside.
The smell of breakfast drifted in from the kitchen—ginger, something slightly sweet, and the quiet crackle of oil in a pan.
"Go tell Mom," Ray said softly to his sisters.
"She's in the kitchen, right?"
Lila nodded. "I'll go."
"I'll come too," Mira added.
They both took off together, bare feet pattering across the wooden floor toward the back of the house. Ray could hear them call out faintly—"Mama! Come quick!"
He turned instead toward the stairs.
Each step creaked softly under his weight as he moved, steady and careful. The girl didn't stir in his arms. Her breathing was steady—light, but real. Her ears occasionally twitched with the shifting air of the house.
At the top of the stairs, he paused. Then turned toward the guest room. It was small. Quiet. A bit dusty in the corners, but clean. No one had used it in weeks. The bed was already made, the quilt neatly folded over the edge.
He knelt down beside it.
Slowly, gently, he lowered her onto the mattress. Her head sank into the pillow, and her hair spilled across it in long, soft waves. Her tail curled slightly beside her. She didn't look like she was sleeping in a unfamiliar environment it was like this was her room.
Ray adjusted the blanket—not all the way, just enough to keep her warm. He didn't want to tuck her in too tightly. Not when she might wake confused. Or afraid.
He sat back on his heels and stared.
His hands were still faintly warm—from the aura, maybe. Or from nerves. He wasn't sure.
She didn't look like royalty. Not the kind from books, anyway. No crown. No jewels. Just a small, pale girl with animal ears and a stillness about her that seemed… too calm for someone so recently hurt.
Ray didn't know about Foxkin. Only that they weren't common. Definitely not around here. And definitely not royalty.
He turned the thought over again in his mind:
Heir to the Foxkin.
And the words that had come after:
Quest Updated. Save the Young Princess. Reward: Eternal Gratitude. Failure: Divine Smite.
He still didn't want to think about what that last one meant.
Footsteps returned. Softer ones, slower. His mother stepped into the doorway a moment later. Her apron was still tied, sleeves rolled up, fingers dusted with flour. She took one look at the girl on the bed, then at Ray.
"She's the one?" she asked, voice low.
Ray nodded. "We found her in the garden. Her leg was twisted… really bad. But I managed to help."
She walked over, her expression unreadable at first. Then softened as she took in the girl's face—the ears, the tail, the way her chest rose and fell in sleep.
"She's not from the village," she murmured.
Ray said nothing.
His mother crouched beside the bed, brushing a few strands of hair away from the girl's cheek. "No fever," she said. "But she's sleeping deep."
She glanced at Ray. "Did she say anything?"
He shook his head. "Not a word. She was a fox at first. Then… changed."
His mother's hand froze for a moment. But she didn't pull away.
"She transformed?"
Ray nodded. "After I helped her leg."
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.
Finally, his mother stood, arms folding across her chest. "We'll let her rest. Whatever happened before she got here, it's over. At least for now."
Ray looked at the girl again. The system hadn't spoken since. But something in him felt like this wasn't finished. Not yet.
He didn't know her name. Didn't know where she came from. Didn't even know what the "Foxkin" were supposed to be in real terms.
But somehow, she was here.
And the system saying that this was an important quest told him… she wouldn't be leaving right away.