Billie gently patted her fox, Oscar, between the ears, her gaze fixed on the towering circus tent before them. Its bright colors were faded and torn in places, flapping lazily in the wind like a ghost of better days. This was it—another gem was hidden inside.

She sighed heavily, her ears twitching in irritation. “Ugh… I really hate the circus,” she muttered, mostly to herself, though Oscar gave a small whine in agreement as he padded beside her.

With a hesitant step, Billie pushed aside the heavy entrance flap. Instantly, a wave of noise and scent overwhelmed her—loud cheering echoed across the tent, mingled with the sickly-sweet aroma of popcorn and cotton candy. Laughter rang out, too loud, too distorted, like something was just… off.

She kept her head down, weaving through the lively crowd with practiced ease. Flashing lights spun above as acrobats performed overhead and clowns darted between rows, but Billie stayed focused.

Her eyes narrowed as she spotted a curtain near the edge of the stage.

Without drawing attention, she slipped behind it, Oscar right on her heels. The backstage area was dim and narrow, the polished cheer of the circus fading into silence as she crept through the tight hallways, footsteps quiet on the worn floorboards.

The air was cooler here… and heavier. The gem had to be close.