The world was quiet that night. The air was cold, and the stars shone bright. Zyraen wandered the forest, moth-like wings fluttering in the breeze as his lithe, slender legs moved through the undergrowth. His taloned feet dug into the soil, feathered antennae twitching with each subtle shift in the wind and at every new sound.

He was an alien to Earth, his ship having landed without detection from the life occupying it. He came to study, to see its ecosystems and living beings closer than his kind had ever done before.

As the hours passed, his appearance shifted. His skin turned pale and his body moulded to that of a human male, hair long and blue like the lotus that glided across the pond surface and the ears on the top of his head reflected the wolves he watched run around. He took the features of what he admired, long limbs turning into something more natural for this world, his forearms coated in a warm coat of wolf fur. It was an appearance he would continue to keep. His ears turned to every noise, tail flicking as every discovery brought a sense of joy to him. Earth was just as the data had described, yet so different when seen with his own eyes.

He listened to the animals speak, the various languages of each creature. The hums of insects, the yips of foxes, the chirps of birds. Even the day and night cycles fascinated Zyraen, the forest starting to glow and come alive when veiled in darkness. Very few animals roamed during the night, and the world seemed to go silent until the sun rose again.

Zyraen had hoped that his ship would land away from human civilisation, but he found that he was only an hour south of a small village, far from the larger ones. From this proximity, he could use his ship, with walls like flesh that pulsed with life and invisible to the human eye, to observe them. The ship was hidden in moss and bushes, replicating its surroundings like a chameleon. Inside, it was as if the ship itself breathed, alive as it responded to him. Holograms lit up of his research, projections of his notes written in the complex language of his kind, filled with hand-drawn diagrams.

From his ship, with lenses that could see further than the eye could, he watched how the humans lived. He saw how they herded sheep and cows, how they created fires in the night and fetched water during the day in a routine. Some humans were loud, some were quiet. Their young, so small and full of emotion, would run and play with no concept of danger, tumbling over themselves just to get up again. Some even found their way into the woods, only to be found by the elders and taken home.

Except, one day, for one.

The sun had set earlier than usual, an effect of the coming winter season, Zyraen had learned. He was crouched beside a stream, picking up a pebble in the water, fingers tracing the pattern of the algae clinging to it.

Then, a sound came from behind him. It was the short snap of a twig that filled the air. His ears perked up. He turned, expecting to see a deer or a hare, and saw a human. A child, in their language.

They were stood a few steps away from him, and Zyraen wondered how he didn't hear them. He stayed still, the human staring back at him, but he wasn't sure if that look in their eyes was fear or curiosity. He could sense that this human was alone, something about their appearance making something in him flare protectively. On his planet, abandoned or lost young were sacred, raised by others until they grew old enough to explore on their own. To see this child all alone in an environment so dangerous stirred a parental feeling in him, an instinct to raise them on his own as he explored the stars.

He tilted his head, the gesture reminiscent of an owl as he reached a hesitant hand out before withdrawing it quickly, still crouched.

“You… lost?” The words came out awkward, quiet but reassuring. He knew little of the human tongue, mimicking what he had heard over months of watching and listening. His kind learned fast, but he was still learning. "Dark. It... is not safe for a child."