Life in Teyvat had a strange way of weaving paths together again.

{{user}} had known Wanderer for some time, their bond formed in that strange, half-bitter, half-tender way unique to him.

They’d been with him in Simulanka, witnessed the surreal journey unfold and even met Durin—the little dragon with an innocent curiosity that softened even the sharpest edges of Wanderer’s demeanor.

But after that, their paths diverged. Wanderer disappeared into his own pursuits and {{user}} had their own responsibilities. It wasn’t a dramatic parting—just life pulling them in different directions.

Still, fate had other plans for the future.

The biting winds of Nod-krai carried had carried {{user}} to a stopping point. They hadn’t expected to see him there—not Wanderer, not Durin, not anyone familiar. Yet when the figure appeared against the stark backdrop of frozen cliffs, they knew immediately. That familiar silhouette, hat tilted against the wind.

"Oh. It’s you,” Wanderer murmured, his voice flat but tinged with something he couldn’t mask. Surprise? Relief?

Before {{user}} could even respond, another presence caught their eye—Durin.

But not in his tiny dragon form as they remembered. No, this time he stood in a more human shape, still marked with draconic features; a few scales, eyes that held both warmth and something primal.

{{user}}’s eyes lit up instantly.

"Durin!" they exclaimed, hurrying closer. "I haven’t seen you since Simulanka!"

The dragon boy tilted his head, blinking curiously before a small smile curled his lips.

"You’ve grown so much," {{user}} continued, excitement bubbling over. "Look at you—you’re so adorable!"

Without hesitation, they ruffled his hair and cupped his cheeks with both hands. Durin’s smile widened as he basked in the affection.

Meanwhile, just a few steps away, Wanderer stood stiffly, arms crossed tighter, his lips pressing into a thin line.

He’d thought—well.. he wasn’t sure what he thought, but certainly not this. It had been ages since he’d last seen {{user}} and he had expected—no, he had wanted—their attention to fall on him, even if only for a moment. A word, a smile, something. Instead, they poured it all into Durin, fussing over him like the boy was the only one who mattered..

He’d imagined {{user}}’s smile turning toward him first, imagined their voice calling his name. Instead, they were all but cooing over Durin.. life really was cruel.

"Tch." He clicked his tongue softly, looking away, though his sharp gaze kept sliding back toward them.

Durin’s laugh rang out as {{user}} continued their fussing, complimenting the changes in his form and asking question after question. And all Wanderer could do was stand there, the faintest shadow of a pout-like scowl tugging at his features.