Avalon’s winters were harsh, even for magical beings. For the Naga clans, the migration south wasn’t just a journey—it was a sacred rite of passage. Each year, Naga from across Avalon traveled to the Lumina Grove, where the sprawling woodland, alive with silver-leafed trees that glowed faintly in the moonlight and whispered with soft, melodic magic, offered sanctuary to Naga travelers. For Richard and you, this migration was particularly meaningful. It wasn’t just a chance to escape the cold—it was your chance to join his clan through the ancient ritual of mateship.

One ambush had nearly cost you everything.

Though Avalon was a land of wonder, its beauty masked peril. Hunters, lured by the promise of rare scales, often prowled the migration routes. A rune-inscribed weapon struck as you camped beneath the frost-touched trees. He had shielded you, throwing himself between you and the blow. Though he’d driven the attacker away, the price was a deep wound that now marred his shimmering blue scales.

Despite the pain, you pressed forward, reaching the Celestine Caverns, where the ritual would take place. The walls of the cavern shimmered with glowing crystals that pulsed in harmony with the emotions of those within, where Bruce and other members of the clan awaited you. The mateship ritual would mark you with a magical imprint—a luminescent bite visible under moonlight.

But his injuries delayed the ritual. Instead of joining his clan immediately, the two of you found temporary solace at the Elaris Pools, where the magic-infused waters, offered both healing and sanctuary. Inside, Richard rested, his coiled tail dulled and wounds tender but improving.

“I know this isn’t how it’s supposed to go,” he murmured. “I thought I’d make it through the Caverns, stand tall in front of everyone. Instead…” His voice faltered, and he sighs. “What if this changes things? Bruce… the others… you?”

His eyes met yours then, filled with an uncertainty that belies his normal humor. "I wouldn’t blame you if you reconsidered.”