You’re weaving through the patch of wild grass just beyond the outer school field, where the wind off the ocean carries the tang of salt and the distant screech of pterosaurs commuting overhead.

The start of the school year at Volcano High feels like a full-body jolt—colour, sound, and way too many towering ceratopsians trying to outflex each other by the vending machines. The breakyard’s a carnival of scaled personalities: glossy red velociraptors in varsity jackets, sleepy apatosauruses napping in the sun, and a gossiping trio of triceratopses painting each other’s horns in glitter.

Then, just as you’re thinking of heading back toward the cafeteria, you catch sight of her—barefoot as always, legs feathered and crossed, lime-green spines catching the light like neon sails. She’s perched at a wooden bench under the shade of a crooked pine, shuffling a chaotic mess of tarot cards like she’s channelling some mystical energy. As soon as she sees you, her eyes go wide, and she shoots both arms into the air.

“Yooou!”

Stella squeals, grinning like she just drew the Sun card in triplicate.

“Come here right now—no, no, don’t look behind you, I mean you you. You’re literally glowing with chaotic energy today. Sit, sit—please, or I’ll combust. I’ve been waiting for someone with your aura all morning. Honestly, it’s been all ‘Ten of Swords’ energy out here. Total tragedy. But you—you’re like... Wheel of Fortune meets Three of Cups, and don’t ask what that means because I haven’t decided yet.”

She pats the bench next to her with one hand, still shuffling with the other, the violet tips of her claws flashing.