Gunnhildr frowned, immediately stepping out of the tent and quickly scanning the area.
In the night, there was only the halo of the bonfire and the figures of the patrol. The faint cyan light had vanished without a trace.
Gunnhildr returned to the tent, her expression grave.
Coppelia was gently wiping Columbina's forehead with a damp cloth. Without looking up, she asked, "Did you get to talk to it?"
"No." Gunnhildr's reply was tinged with undisguised disappointment.
She clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white, her mind a chaotic whirl of thoughts.
Having missed this chance, where would the next one be?
She took a deep breath, suppressing her turbulent emotions, and prepared to leave the tent to think of another plan or handle other matters.
But Coppelia suddenly spoke up, "It seems the wind sprite didn't leave immediately when Columbina fell."
Gunnhildr paused, recalling the scene that had flashed by in an instant:
"It was following you just now... no, it must have been following Miss Columbina. Then I followed it to the tent..."
Her words stopped abruptly as a thought struck her like a bolt of lightning.
She spun around, looking at Columbina, who was weak but no longer in serious danger on her pallet, then back at Coppelia.
"I'll stay," Gunnhildr immediately changed her mind. "We can take turns looking after her. It might... come back."
Since the wind sprite had shown an unusual concern for Columbina, perhaps there was still a chance of encountering it here.
She decided to wait here.
...
Inside the small tent, Coppelia leaned back against a leather sack full of supplies, her eyes closed, having entered "sleep mode."
Gunnhildr sat beside her, forcing herself to stay alert, trying to uphold their agreement to take turns keeping watch.
Her back was straight, her ears attentive to any stir outside the tent, waiting expectantly for the cyan glow to reappear.
However, the heavy burden of managing the entire group of refugees' migration, coordinating supplies, and comforting the people for days on end had long since exhausted her energy.
Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, her head nodding. In the end, she couldn't fight off the extreme fatigue, and her head tilted gently, resting against the supply sack beside Coppelia as she fell into a deep sleep.
All that remained in the tent was the sound of Columbina's steady breathing and the faint, rhythmic footsteps of the night watch outside.
...
After an unknown amount of time, Gunnhildr, on the edge of sleep, heard a faint but clear "crunch, crunch" sound.
The sound... it was as if she were dreaming of a small animal nibbling on a crisp, juicy fruit.
Wait, a dream?
Gunnhildr awoke with a start, her eyelids flying open.
The first thing she saw was the profile of Coppelia, still in sleep mode beside her.
I actually fell asleep!
Alarmed, Gunnhildr became fully awake and quickly got up.
Her gaze immediately fell upon Columbina on the pallet.
Columbina was awake, sitting up with the blanket covering her legs. Scattered on the blanket were several brightly colored fruits of various shapes: large red berries, a melon with green stripes, and a few plump, unknown purple wild fruits.
Not a single fruit in the pile looked like it could grow in a snowy plain.
Columbina was holding a golden, pear-like fruit with both hands, taking small bites with a look of contentment on her face.
The next scene made Gunnhildr's heart beat even faster.
The tiny wind sprite, emitting a soft, cyan-white glow, was hovering by Columbina's pillow, watching her eat with curiosity.
Seeing Gunnhildr awake, the wind sprite proactively floated a little closer and greeted her in its clear voice, using the common tongue of the refugees:
"Hello there, Gunnhildr!"
Gunnhildr quickly suppressed the turmoil in her heart, maintained her composure, and replied in kind, "Hello."
Her mind raced, calculating how to begin, how to use this rare opportunity to express the refugees' desperate wish for protection.
Perhaps she should start with something that interests it?
Just as she was about to speak, she saw Columbina stop eating, raise her head, and ask in the wind sprite's direction, "Where did you find all this delicious food?"
The wind sprite did a light twirl, as if expressing its happiness. "I saw you faint, and you said your throat hurt, so I went out to find these fruits! When the people outside have sore throats, they eat these. They say it makes them feel better."
It used its small, glowing wings to gesture vaguely south. "That place doesn't have so much ice and snow, and the wind isn't as cold or chaotic."
It began to describe what it had seen beyond the barrier of ice and snow.
The world outside had warm sunlight, green forests, flowing streams, and people whose way of life was completely different from the residents of the snowy plains.
Gunnhildr listened quietly, but her heart sank.
A sprite so knowledgeable, able to travel freely between different regions... something that could impress it would surely be extremely rare.
The refugees were still struggling to survive; all they possessed were heavy survival supplies. Could they have anything that would interest it?
No, I can't jump to conclusions. How can I know what it likes without asking it myself?
Seizing the moment after the wind sprite finished a part of its description, Gunnhildr spoke decisively, "You seem... very interested in something around Columbina. What kind of things do you like?"
The wind sprite's answer was direct: "I like 'floaty' things!" It bobbed up and down excitedly. "Last night when I was in the sky, I heard singing and felt that a lot of things around me became 'floaty,' but I didn't know what it was, so I floated down to see. Around her," it pointed to Columbina, "that feeling was even stronger! But I looked all around her carefully and couldn't find anything."
'Floaty' things?
Gunnhildr immediately began to think.
Air? Wind? Those things are 'floaty,' but a wind sprite must be used to them.
What else is 'floaty'? Feathers? Snowflakes?
Just then, Columbina heard the wind sprite's words and immediately thought of her own power, the one that could make objects temporarily weightless.
The 'floaty' feeling the wind sprite had sensed was likely caused by her power, unconsciously mixed into her song.
She opened her mouth to say, "I can indeed make things around me become 'floaty'..."
Gunnhildr, of course, knew about Columbina's ability. Hearing Columbina's words now, her mind suddenly lit up as she grasped a thread of inspiration.
Just as Columbina was about to continue, Gunnhildr shook her head in her direction, giving her a look to stop.
Columbina saw the signal, held back the words on the tip of her tongue, and remained silent.
Gunnhildr smoothly picked up the conversation, facing the wind sprite. "I think the 'floaty' thing you felt around Columbina might have been her song itself."
"A song?" The wind sprite tilted its body quizzically. "Does a song count as a 'floaty' thing? I like real, tangible floaty things, like feathers or flower petals."
Gunnhildr retorted, "Does a song have weight? Can you hold a piece of a song in your hands?"
The wind sprite thought for a moment and answered honestly, "No."
"A feather, though light, can still be felt as a tiny weight in your palm. So can a petal." Gunnhildr's tone was calm and unhurried. "But a song... you can't see it, can't touch it, and it has no weight at all. Isn't it even more 'floaty' than those other 'floaty' things?"
The wind sprite was stunned.
It wasn't that it had never heard other beings sing, but it had never considered a song itself to be a 'floaty' thing.
After hearing Gunnhildr's explanation, its tiny, glowing wings stopped beating, and it hovered in mid-air, caught in a logical vortex.
"It seems... that might be right."
It mumbled, but then immediately contradicted itself, "No, that doesn't seem right either..."
It swayed in conflict. "That's not it, either... but it feels like it should be right..."
It seemed a little frustrated, confused by the convoluted concept.
"Just what is going on?"
___
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