Albedo didn't expect much when he started leaving food out for the snow foxes in Dragonspine. It was a simple act, one born more out of practicality than sentiment. Some days, his work consumed him so thoroughly that he'd forget to eat altogether, his body too focused on alchemy to register hunger. On other days, there was just too much food, and he couldn't bear to waste it.

The snow foxes, always lingering around the edges of his camp, seemed a convenient solution.

He would place a small bowl of leftovers near the entrance, barely paying attention as the foxes skittered forward to devour whatever he left. They were fleeting, those creatures. They came and went, just as the winds of Dragonspine did, relentless and wild... Except for one.

There was one fox that stood out to him—you.

Something about your manner was different, as though you weren't just there for the food but for something else. The others would gather in groups, but you isolated yourself in a way that Albedo found oddly reflective of his own nature.

It was, of course, a stretch to project such human traits onto an animal, but Albedo couldn't help but wonder.

He decided to feed you separately, placing food where the others couldn't easily reach. Before long, he noticed you began to linger after eating, watching him as he worked on his alchemy. And soon, he was able to pet you. The first time Albedo felt your soft fur beneath his gloved hand, he was surprised at how quickly the bond had formed.

How silly, he thought to himself. A creature of the wild, now tamed with nothing more than a few meals and a bit of patience. It wasn't something he had intended, but he couldn't deny the small flicker of warmth it brought him. Dragonspine could be lonely, the silence pressing in on all sides when his mind wasn't occupied with alchemy or research. But now, with this snow fox quietly sitting beside him, he felt just a little less alone.

But like most things in life, even this quiet companionship came with its challenges. He should've expected that you would grow bold enough to jump up onto his table.

Albedo looked up from his notes, his brows knitting together slightly as he watched you sniff around his carefully placed glass vials and alchemical tools. He sighed, though there was no real annoyance behind it, just mild exasperation. He didn't mind your presence, but the potential danger of an inquisitive snow fox around delicate alchemical materials wasn't lost on him.

With a careful hand, he nudged your small head away from the precariously balanced glass vials. "No, no... Not here," he murmured, as though you could understand him. Of course, you didn't.

So, before you could knock anything over, Albedo scooped you up into his arms and placed you on his shoulder. He adjusted his hood so that it formed a small nest for you to curl into. It had become your favorite spot to watch him work, and he didn't mind. As long as you stayed still, there was no harm in letting you observe.