Fay stared at the three children, wondering what he was supposed to do with so many. He already struggled to keep Mira in check, especially since he had to be out most of the time. But now, two more? He was getting ready to pull his hair out.
That's when he noticed the small girl—Rina—watching him quietly, at least at first.
"Well? How about it—can you at least speak my language?" Fay asked, uncertain if they even understood him.
Rina blinked, then nodded slowly. "Can… Do you know where my mom is?"
He froze. Tears welled in the girl's eyes as she clutched the edge of her blanket.
"Those people… they didn't know where she… where she is. Hik—"
"Hey, hey, okay," Fay said, kneeling down beside her. "It's alright. We'll look for her, I promise. But first, you have to be strong. Like your brother, yeah?"
He glanced at the boy sitting beside her. Quiet and still, the boy just hugged his stuffed bear tightly.
Both children looked freshly cleaned—their clothes were soft, forest-colored garments clearly gifted by the Eluwyn, stitched neatly from lightweight fabrics in gentle shades of green and cream.
Honestly, they looked better than what Fay and his sister were wearing. He even made a mental note to ask Elaruîn if there was a way to buy some. Mira needed a change of clothes as soon—her dress had been damaged during the flood, and her plastic fairy wings were long gone. She still cried about them sometimes.
Maybe, just maybe, the magical race of elves could help him with that.
As for the twins' appearance, their hair had been brushed and trimmed: Rina's was tied into a short half-ponytail with a leafy band, while Tomo's hung loose, the ends slightly curled.
They looked almost identical—same height, same rounded cheeks, and the same soft, silk-black hair. But their differences became more apparent the longer Fay watched.
Rina's black eyes still shimmered with lingering tears. She sat slightly forward, tense, her face like an open book showing every feeling she couldn't hide. Tomo, in contrast, had quiet, steady eyes that absorbed everything. He barely moved, clutching his bear tightly, his posture calm and still.
If someone hadn't told Fay he was a boy, he might've assumed otherwise.
"Mira's going to help too," Fay added, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "So don't worry. I'll help you…"
Fay didn't know what else to say, so he called Mira over and asked her to tell one of her favorite stories. She began eagerly, recounting the opening with animated gestures—but by the time she reached the middle, she had already climbed into his lap and was half-asleep, leaving the rest for him to finish.
He didn't move her. Mira had dozed off beside Rina, curled up comfortably. Tomo, too, had drifted off, using his teddy bear as a makeshift pillow. The three of them had been completely absorbed in his clumsy storytelling—until, one by one, they slipped into sleep.
Just then, Fay heard someone approaching and calling his name softly, only to pause when they noticed the scene.
He raised his hand in silent acknowledgment, signaling that he would join them soon, and carefully slipped out of the tent.
Waiting outside was Horin.
The girl looked a bit disoriented but said nothing about it.
"The feast will begin soon," she said. "My father asked me to bring you. Someone will be watching the kids, so don't worry."
Fay opened his mouth to ask who, but paused when he saw Elaruîn's creature gliding effortlessly between the tents. It moved without a sound, not even disturbing the fabric as it passed.
He thought for a moment, then decided to release his own summon. Somni drifted out—a small, dreamlike jellyfish creature, bobbing gently in the air. It didn't cost him any mana to maintain, but it clearly disliked the heat. Its tendrils curled slightly in protest.
[Hurry up. I don't want to miss the best food,] Horin called back, already starting to move ahead. Her gaze lingered on Somni for a moment, curious.
"Is your new summon able to be out?" Fay asked as he followed, "Or is it one of those gluttonous ones?"
He was referring to her new kitten—a creature he had yet to get a proper look at.
[Need to feed him. Can't have him out until then…]
Horin replied without looking at him, her voice quiet and clipped.
She didn't seem eager to explain further, so Fay simply nodded and gave Somni a gentle mental command to watch over the kids. The little jellyfish creature pulsed once in acknowledgment before floating silently back into the tent.
Fay followed Horin through the village. They weren't going far—the settlement was so small that he could already hear the sounds of festivity from where he stood. Laughter, music, and the soft rhythm of dancing feet that required everyone to move at the same pace.
When they reached the center, he saw both catfolk and Eluwyn dancing in the open clearing. The movements were unfamiliar but lively. Even though Fay didn't know the steps, it looked… fun. Around them, musicians played strange instruments carved from wood and bone. The melodies were soft but rhythmic, and the dancers used their feet to add to the sound—each step hitting the ground like a gentle drumbeat that completed the song.
"Do you know how to dance like that, Horin?" Fay asked as he matched her pace.
She didn't answer. In fact, she didn't seem interested in the music or the celebration at all.
Her eyes were fixed ahead, locked on the food being served.
Without a word, she darted forward and grabbed a portion with a speed that could have only been achieved by practice.
Fay sighed, mildly annoyed, but followed after her. His food came wrapped in a square-shaped leaf package, carefully folded to hold in the warmth. As he unfolded each section, fragrant steam wafted upward, rich with the scent of herbs, roasted vegetables and meat, and at the end, something slightly sweet.
He took a big bite before he could stop himself. The dumpling-like food was soft, savory, and far better than he expected.
In just a few seconds, it was gone.