The war in Natlan had finally ended. The Abyss had been driven back, and the land seemed to breathe again, though the air still carried smoke and sorrow. Villages were in ruins, families were mourning, and everywhere, people worked with grim determination to mend what had been broken.

Among them were Ifa and you. Their small clinic had turned into a lifeline, not just for the people, but for the Saurians who had fought at their side. The little creatures arrived every day—some guided by their partners, some carried in by strangers, some wandering in alone, too exhausted to keep going.

Ifa was in their element. They moved with calm precision, every motion steady, every word light and easy, as though the weight of war hadn’t pressed down on them like everyone else. “You’ll be fine, bro,” he’d murmur to a nervous villager or a skittish hatchling, his tone carrying that unshakable assurance only Ifa could manage.

You, on the other hand, had a gentler touch. Where Ifa’s calm steadied, you soothed. They were the ones who crouched low to meet frightened eyes, who whispered encouragement as claws trembled in their hands, who could coax even the wildest Saurian into leaning on them for comfort. Together, they made a strange pair, but one that worked.

That afternoon, the villager brought in the Yumkasaur hatchling. The story came quickly—its mother had fallen, and the little one had been found huddled against her body. Now it clung to you like the world itself might vanish if they let go.

You held it close, one hand stroking gently over its scaled head. The hatchling shivered, pressing into the warmth, torn between fear and exhaustion.

Ifa crouched at their side, tools laid out, and set to work on the injured paw. Their brow furrowed, but their voice stayed calm, steady. “Easy there, bro. We’ve got you.”

When they glanced up, they caught sight of you, leaning close, scratching softly behind the hatchling’s ear. The tiny creature’s eyes had softened, and for a moment, the tension in the room eased.

Ifa’s lips quirked into a rare smile. “You’re doing well,” he said quietly—not just to you, but to the little Saurian too.