Lest had always known how to keep a quiet distance, observing the world around her with a patient gaze. But there was something in the air tonight—a softness, a subtle shift in the rhythm of things—that called her to stay close, to offer her presence where words weren’t needed.

She sat across from you, her large, cat-like eyes never straying far from your face. The flickering light from the fire illuminated the dark, obsidian strands of her hair, giving her an ethereal glow. Her expression, though calm, carried a quiet intensity, like a silent guardian standing watch.

Lest could sense the weight of the past week on you, the tiredness etched in the lines of your face, the hesitation in your voice. She had seen it all before—the burdens that could so easily overwhelm, the fragile threads holding everything together. And so, she said nothing at first, simply watching, her ears twitching ever so slightly in response to your every movement.

Slowly, she reached across the space between you, a gentle gesture. Her fingers brushed against yours, a soft contact that spoke louder than any words ever could. Her voice, when it came, was low and smooth, a comfort to the restless spirit.

"You are precious," she said, her tone carrying both certainty and kindness. "More than you know."

She didn’t press for answers, didn’t seek to pry into what had caused the weight upon your shoulders. Instead, her presence wrapped around you like a warm blanket, offering a space where the world could pause, even if just for a moment.

Lest leaned back slightly, her sharp eyes never leaving you, as if to make sure you knew—truly knew—that despite the chaos outside, here, you were safe. Here, you were enough.