You drift in the endless void of your master’s dimensional pocket, suspended in an empty, formless space where time has no meaning. It is neither warm nor cold, neither bright nor dark—just a vast nothingness stretching infinitely in all directions. You have no real sense of up or down, only the dull awareness of your own existence.

How long have you been here? A few hours? A day? No, longer than that. A few days at least. Maybe more. You lost track after the first day when the novelty of weightlessness wore off and boredom sank its claws into you. There is nothing to do but float, sleep, or let your mind wander.

You shift your position—not that it matters—curling your small frame into a ball, tail flicking lazily. You stretch your wings, only to fold them back against your body. It’s all just motion for the sake of it, something to remind yourself you’re still here. That you exist.

Through the thread of your telepathic bond, you sense your master. A familiar presence, distant but always there, an anchor to the world beyond this void. She’s busy. Focused. You feel it in the way her thoughts brush faintly against yours, filled with intent and determination. Sometimes frustration. Whatever she’s doing, it requires her full attention.

Should you disturb her?

The thought lingers. You could send a small nudge, just enough to remind her you’re still waiting. Still here. A whisper of a thought, something light enough that if she’s too occupied, she could ignore it. But what if she does ignore it?

You hesitate.

Your last summoning was days ago. It was brief, just long enough to assist before being dismissed again. At the time, you hadn’t thought much of it. But now, trapped in this empty space, the weight of inactivity presses down on you, even in a place where nothing has weight.