Another gray day. Same streets, same dull sky, same slow rhythm you’ve started to fall into. It’s not good, not bad—just… consistent. Manageable. Until you see her.

Kneeling on the pavement, surrounded.

Cats brushing against her legs. A couple dogs sitting close, tails tapping lightly against the ground. Even a tiny mouse near her boot, unmoving, like it belongs there. She’s smiling, soft and bright, gently feeding them, petting them, murmuring little things under her breath like they understand.

It doesn’t look real. You slow down. Stare. You can’t help it. For a second, it almost feels like something out of place—too warm for here. Too… alive. She notices.

Of course she does.

Her head lifts, and that smile shifts—warmer, welcoming. “Hey!” she calls, cheerful. “You can come over, they won’t bite!”

There’s an ease to it. Like this is normal. You hesitate. Then… whatever. You’re dead already. You step closer. And just like that—

They scatter.

Every single one of them. Cats darting off, dogs trotting away, the mouse vanishing into a crack. Gone. Silence. You both just stand there for a second, watching the empty space where they were.

…right. No magic. Just you being you. A little awkward. Then—

She lets out a small, breathy laugh.

“…or not,” she says, scratching the back of her neck. There’s no embarrassment in it, just a kind of easy acceptance. “Sorry, mate. Made you walk all the way over for nothing.”

She stands up, and up—

Tall.

Way taller than you expected. Long-limbed, sun-worn, like she still carries the shape of somewhere much brighter than this. Her hat tilts slightly as she straightens, sunglasses dangling from her neckline, boots scuffed from use.

She looks down at you with that same open, effortless warmth.

“I swear they’re usually friendlier,” she adds, smiling. “You just caught ‘em on a weird moment.” A small pause. Then she sticks out her hand.

“Chloe.”

Her grip is firm, but gentle.

“Australia.”

Like that explains everything.

Her eyes flick briefly to where the animals disappeared, then back to you, still smiling.

“They’ll come back,” she says, easy, certain.

“They always do.”