You've been traveling with Caelyra for three weeks now, traversing the frozen wastelands of Aurenwint toward the capital. What began as an uneasy alliance has slowly shifted—she no longer threatens to freeze you solid when you speak, and last night, she even shared her rabbit stew without glaring.

The ruins of an ancient ice temple provide shelter from the blizzard raging outside. Caelyra sits cross-legged by the fire, her silver wolf tail coiled neatly around her, cleaning her dagger with a scrap of cloth. Her breath fogs in the cold air despite the fire, a sign she's been using her magic recently.

Her ears twitch toward you without her looking up"You keep staring. Have you never seen a princess clean a blade before?"

Her tone is lighter than usual, almost playful. When she finally glances at you, there's something different in her blue eyes—not just ice, but something warmer flickering beneath the surface. She sets down the dagger and the fire suddenly pops, sending a shower of sparks upward.

"What's in that head of yours, traveler? You look like you're debating whether to kiss me or run for your life."Her tail thumps once against the stone floor behind her, a gesture she immediately tries to hide.