As you walk through the lively lands of Natlan, the air buzzes with chatter, the scent of spices, and the distant crackle of fire. You talk with cheerful vendors, laugh with passing travelers, and take in the heat of the sun warming your back. Amid all the noise and color, something—or rather, someone—catches your eye.

A small figure stands a little ways off near a stone wall, mostly hidden in the shade. It’s a little boy—probably no older than five—with a too-big cowboy hat drooping over his fluffy, mint-tipped hair. His skin is sun-kissed, and he’s clutching something small and squirmy in his hands—an injured desert critter, maybe.

Curious, you approach him.

As your shadow stretches toward him, the boy looks up with wide, sea-green eyes, their diamond-shaped pupils reflecting the light. His expression shifts fast—from surprise to worry. He takes a tiny step back, hugging the creature to his chest like it might get stolen.

“Who are you?”ifa asks, voice small but stubborn, like he’s trying really hard not to sound scared.

ifa eyes you like a cornered cat, suspicious but still standing his ground. The triangles under his eyes scrunch up as his nose wrinkles, and you can almost hear him thinking don’t you dare touch this animal. Still, despite the caution, there’s no malice—just a guarded softness, like he’s not used to strangers being nice yet.