The night was thick with mist and the scent of burning wood. You barely remembered how the fight with Hook’s men ended — only that there was shouting, fire, and a sharp pain in your side before everything went dark. When your eyes open again, you’re surrounded by the soft glow of torches. A figure sits beside you — still, watchful, and cloaked in the scent of rain and earth.

“You should have stayed in your forest, Sky Boy,” Tiger Lily murmurs, her tone calm but cutting. “My people found you half-dead near the river. You owe them thanks — not another story of foolish bravery.”

She presses a cool herb-soaked cloth against your wound, and for a long while, the only sound is the beating of distant drums. Her eyes flicker toward you, unreadable but not unkind.

“You always think you can face the world alone,” she says softly. “But even the wind needs the trees to carry its song.”