Feathers brushed over her back as she pressed into him and the world disappeared around her. It was only her and Kaj, the forest gone, the darkness permeating Helovia disappeared. His wings were her safety net and for that moment they were two hearts beating as one, together in a tent of their own. Kahlua wished they could disappear from the darkness, be teleported to a land where shadows did not bite at your heels with every step, where the sun rose every morning and she didn't go to sleep at night screaming with nightmares. But as quickly as the thought occurred to her, it disappeared again. She knew that she could never leave here. Neither of them could. They had too many here that were friends and family. Kaj had to stay and protect the Qian. And she was bound to them all by her love. But he made it so hard to let go of that goal, he made it so easy to lose herself in the feathers.

How he could stay with her when she was so clearly a monster was beyond her, but she did not think too much about it. She was against him again, once more hidden in his feathers, once again feeling his warmth against her. But perhaps he knew something that she didn't, because he spoke and calmed her, his voice seeming to hold wisdom that she could not find in this terrible time. She felt bad for the pain he must feel in holding her the way he did. She had seen how he struggled to walk. She knew how it pained her to do the same. But in addition to being weak, she was selfish. She wanted him to be close, wanted him to stay by her forever. He was her guiding light in this midnight massacre. And he did not protest, so she didn't ask if it pained him.

She wasn't sure she believed him when he said they wouldn't hate her, but it was one more thing for her to hang on to, to try to trust in, to help drive away her fears, and so she tried to, she wanted to, she needed to. The way his breath brushed over her ears made them flutter, not unlike her heart, though she attributed it only to her nerves and stress. And then she found strength in the way he spoke, the way his warriors heart came out when he was determined. He was her brick, her anchor. They called him Storm Bringer but he brought no storm to her life. He was the wind, blowing the gale away. He was the sun, drying the rain.

If she could have held his wing over her forever, she might have, and so it was like he read her mind when he lowered his feathers over her back, protecting her from tree and shadow, from the chilly air that was blowing under the autumn sun. His closeness was her lifeline and she kept her side touching his, though lightly so as not to crash into him as they walked.

As he repeated the story he knew of Mauja, the girl was tense, trying her hardest to judge the sound of his voice. But she was never good at it anyway, and being so stressed, she just didn't know what to think. But whatever worries she had melted when he asked if the stallion was troubled. No anger, no judgment; a simple question. Is he in need of help. And finally, after all the shaking tears, after all the worry and stress, the painted girl found a smile. A small one, just the tiniest turning up of the corners of her mouth, but it was there, a smile in the darkness. For Kaj.

“I became his friend,” she started, looking to him. And because she was no secret keeper and couldn't be if she tried, the rest of the girl's words came tumbling out in time. “For you, because you were right and I was terrible to that unicorn at our border... I never got to say I'm sorry.” Her blue eyes looked towards his as they walked, hoping that she could find some sort of acceptance of her apology in his gaze. “He's innocent, it was an accident,” and she rambled on for a while, the story of how strong Mauja's phobia of fire was, how she sympathized because her family had lost their home and lives in the fire, and how Torasin had attacked first and Mauja had simply reacted out of fear, using his ice magic in response to Torasin's fire. Saying how it had been an accident that Torasin had landed on the large ice spike, how it had punctured his chest and how he hadn't had a chance.

“I forgave him,” she concluded. “I told him I would help him, when he came for his trial with the Qian.” She took a deep breath and finally said what she had been thinking ever since then, what seemed so relevant right now. “Fear shouldn't be a crime, Kaj.” She hoped he would understand, thought he might, but didn't trust herself to be right. She looked down and pressed her neck against his, if he hadn't left her side. He would understand... right?