Kael sat in silence, his eyes never leaving Violet's face.
Not a flicker of deception. Not a trace of guile. Just exhaustion and desperate sincerity carved into features too young to carry such weight.
He exhaled slowly, the sound like wind through hollow bones.
"Rest," he said finally. "We'll speak more tomorrow."
Violet nodded, too tired to argue.
***
Outside the tent, Eivor waited—pacing, fidgeting, looking like a caged animal finally seeing the door crack open.
The moment Violet emerged, he rushed forward. "You're alive! I thought—when they carried you—gods, Violet, what did you do?!"
She managed a weak smile. "Survived."
"Barely!" He grabbed her shoulders, scanning her face as if checking for missing pieces. "You froze the Da'ar. You collapsed. People were talking about executing you for—"
"Eivor." Her hand rested on his. "I'm fine."
He stared at her. Then sighed, shoulders sagging. "You're insane. You know that, right?"
"I've been told."
***
They walked through the camp together, the evening air crisp and alive with the sounds of a settlement preparing for night. Fires crackled. Voices rose in laughter and argument. Somewhere, a drum beat a steady rhythm.
"This place is amazing," Eivor murmured, eyes wide. "The way they build—everything's temporary but sturdy. Like they're always ready to move but never afraid to settle. And the totems!" He pointed to a carved wooden post. "Each one tells a story. That one marks a warrior who killed a Winterbeast with his bare hands."
Violet looked at the totem—a wolf's head, fangs bared, painted in red and white.
"How do you know that?" she asked.
Eivor grinned. "I asked. They're actually pretty friendly once you stop looking terrified."
A voice cut in. "That's because you smell like prey."
Vael appeared beside them, hands in his pockets, tail swishing lazily. He looked between them with barely concealed curiosity. "You're the girl who froze my Da."
Violet nodded. "And you're the boy who yelled at me for it."
Vael's ears flattened. "I wasn't—I mean—you hurt him!"
"He's fine." Violet spoke,
"He could've died!" Vael growled,
"He asked for a fight. I gave him one." Violet mumbled.
Vael opened his mouth. Closed it. Huffed. "You're weird."
Violet smiled faintly. "I've been told that too."
Eivor laughed. "Why are you bullying him?"
"I am not! I don't want him grow dumb..." Violeted sighed...
"I won't!" Vael stomped...
"You will..." She rolled her eyes with smile. "The only thing your anger won't quell is your stupidity..." Violet mumbled.
"Yeah! I am smart! Ma said so!" Vael clicked his tongue.
"A smart guy won't think hitting head two times will put help in concussion afte the first one..." She sighed.
***
Vael studied her for a moment longer, then shrugged. "Want a tour?"
"A tour?" Violet blinked.
"Yeah. Unless you want to just sit around looking miserable." He turned, already walking. "Come on."
Eivor glanced at Violet. She nodded.
They followed.
***
Vael led them through the camp with the easy confidence of someone who'd grown up running these paths.
"That's the healer's tent," he said, pointing. "Old Mara. She's scary but good. Fixed my arm last winter when I tried to climb the ice cliffs."
"Why were you climbing ice cliffs?" Eivor asked.
"Why not?"
Violet smiled despite herself.
"Over there," Vael continued, "that's the forge. Kari's mate runs it. He makes the best blades in the valley. Da says his steel sings."
They passed a group of children playing with wooden swords. One of them—a small fox Beastkin with bright orange fur—waved at Vael. He waved back.
"That's Suri. She's fast. Faster than me, even." He said it with grudging respect. "She'll probably be a scout one day."
Eivor watched everything with wide eyes, soaking it in like a sponge. "Do all the tribes live together like this?"
"Not always," Vael said. "We come together for Dra-za-li, for hunts, for war. But mostly we stay in our own territories. Direwolves in the north. Snow leopards in the east. Polar bears in the west."
"And the Valley of Winds?" Violet asked quietly.
Vael's expression softened. "It's neutral ground. Sacred. Where the wind blows strongest." He looked up at the mountains surrounding them. "The ancestors say the wind carries the voices of the dead. If you listen carefully, you can hear them."
Silence settled over them.
Eivor broke it first. "Have you ever heard them?"
Vael's tail stilled. "Once. The night my grandmother died." His voice was softer now. "I was little. Couldn't sleep. Went outside and the wind… it sounded like singing. Da said it was her, saying goodbye."
Violet's chest tightened.
Eivor's voice was gentle. "I'm sorry."
Vael shrugged, but his eyes were distant. "It's okay. She had a good death. Died in her sleep after a full life." He glanced at Violet. "That's all anyone can ask for, right?"
Violet looked away. "Yeah."
***
They reached the edge of the camp where the land dropped into a steep valley. Below, a river wound through the rocks, glittering in the fading light.
"This is my favorite spot," Vael said, sitting on a boulder. "You can see everything from here."
Violet and Eivor joined him.
For a while, they just sat in comfortable silence, watching the world turn from gold to blue to silver.
"Why did you come here?" Vael asked suddenly.
Violet tensed. "To warn you."
"But why?" He turned to face her, grey eyes sharp. "You don't know us. We're not your people. So why risk your life?"
Violet hesitated. "Because someone I care about asked me to."
"Who?"
She looked at him—this boy who didn't know her yet, who would one day become her closest friend, who would carry grief like a second skin.
"Someone who believed I could make a difference," she said softly.
Vael studied her face. Then nodded slowly. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah." He kicked his legs against the rock. "I believe you."
Violet blinked. "Just like that?"
"Just like that." He grinned. "You froze my Da. You're either really strong or really stupid. Either way, you're interesting."
Eivor snorted. "She's both."
Violet elbowed him. He laughed.
Vael's grin widened. "I like you two. You're weird, but you're fun."
Despite everything—the fear, the exhaustion, the weight of futures not yet written—Violet smiled.
For a moment, she wasn't the girl who'd died on a scaffold. She wasn't the prophet bearing warnings of fire and blood.
She was just Violet, sitting with friends, watching the sun set over mountains.