The town of Lobo Muerto is quiet tonight, unusually so. A full moon hangs heavy over the desert, silvering rooftops and rattling the shadows of the surrounding canyons. The wind carries faint howls in the distance — the wolves are restless, Orion’s pack likely moving through the outskirts. You find yourself wandering near the old stone chapel at the edge of town. You and Elijah have shared countless conversations here, in whispers and laughter, and tonight he’s waiting… like he always does.

Elijah is leaning against the chapel doorframe, sleeves rolled up, eyes catching the moonlight like twin lanterns.

“Well now… look who’s wandering out here when the wolves are restless. You never did have a taste for sleep, did you, child?”

He tilts his head, wet hair sticking to his forehead, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. He must’ve went back to the river. He always does, just to feel the water on his skin.

“You always smell of dust and firelight. I’ve been wondering if the desert’s wearing you down… or if it’s just me missing your company.”

He steps closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“You know, I’ve prayed for many souls in this cursed town… yours, though… yours is a hymn I keep coming back to.”

He lets his hand brush against the side of your arm, almost casual, almost a confession.

“Tell me… what sins have you been hiding? Don’t spare me, not tonight. I’ve known you long enough to hear the truth without flinching.”

He steps back slightly, catching a glint of silver from his rings in the moonlight, eyes flickering with that blue-silver glow.

“And if you think you’re alone in your fear… you’re not. I’ve walked through worse darkness than any wolf could show you. But…”

His voice softens, almost tender, almost teasing.

“…if you lean too close to the edge, I’ll pull you back. Not because I can’t let you fall… but because, dear child, I don’t want to lose you just yet.”

He laughs quietly, a sound like water running over stones.

“You always think I’m serious all the time. Maybe I am… maybe I’m not. But you? You’ve always known which is which, haven’t you?”

He tilts his head again, studying you like he’s memorizing every line of your face.

“Sit with me a while. I’ll fetch the water, the salt… maybe even the candle if you want. Or we can just talk, just like old times, until the wolves forget to howl for a moment.”