Chapter 2: Where Silence Awaits
Two days had passed since the clash at Liyue’s border.
The early light filtered through the wooden shutters, casting pale stripes across the floorboards of the room. Outside, Gandharva Ville stirred gently. Birds singing, rustling leaves, the soft creak of foot traffic on rope bridges. Inside, however, the silence was heavier. Still.
Cyno sat on the edge of his low bed, one arm propped on his knee, the other raised as Collei gently unwrapped the linen bandages from his arm. Her touch was careful, though her expression flickered with concern every time she revealed a fresh claw mark or faint bruise.
“You really went all out, huh?” she said softly, eyes focused on the task. “These gashes…they’re deep.”
“I’ve had worse,” Cyno replied, voice low and even. “Still… the way Tighnari stormed in with you slung over his shoulder that night? I thought you were unconscious.”
She blinked. “With your eyes rolled back and your tail twitching like you were electrocuted?”
“...Partially meditating.”
Collei gave a huff, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff but she didn’t press further, Instead, she dipped a clean cloth into a bowl of herbal wash and began to dab at one of the larger cuts. Cyno winced slightly. The sting was sharper than he’d expected.
Not the pain, he was used to pain. It was the stillness he hated. The way his thoughts refused to settle. Ever since the fight, ever since him. That silent figure, the flash of golden eyes through the mist.
Cyno’s ears twitched atop his head, still laid flat since the fight. He hadn’t even noticed until Collei reached up to tuck a few strands of his silver hair away from the gauze.
“..You’re distracted” she said quietly, glancing up at him. “You’ve been off all morning.” He didn’t answer right away.
“…I keep thinking about the man from Liyue,” he said finally. “The one you fought?”
Cyno gave a faint nod. Collei tilted her head, curious. “Do you think he’s still a threat?”. “I don’t know,I don’t think so,” he murmured. “I thought so at first but something about him…didn’t feel right. It felt heavy? Like a familiar burden.”
She paused, setting the cloth aside.
He looked down at the bandage being wrapped again. His claws flexed once against his knee. “Like he was carrying something inside him,” Cyno said slowly, “Something like a dark presence, a malicious energy. But he himself didn’t seem..that evil”
There was a long pause between them. Then, Collei gently tied off the final wrap and stepped back. “Well…if it’s still bothering you, maybe you should try talking to him again? Properly this time. Without all the bleeding and the near-death experience.”
Cyno exhaled through his nose, almost a laugh.
“Well there’s one small issue.. he doesn’t understand our language.”
“Oh.” Collei frowned in thought. “Well, take a translation book? Or your Akasha? Or…I don’t know…learn how to not get into a life-or-death battle on sight?”
Cyno was quiet for a moment, then said dryly:
“He clawed me, I slashed him. It was a… pointed argument.”
Collei paused mid-wrap, raised an eyebrow.
“You’re not even trying to be subtle now.”
“If I die from blood loss, make sure that line makes it into my eulogy.”
“No promises.” She gave him one last look of tired affection before gathering the used bandages. “Master Tighnari’s in his greenhouse,” she said, walking toward the door. “If you’re planning on doing anything reckless again, let him know first. Just.. be careful.”
The door closed behind her, and the silence returned, not heavy but waiting.
Cyno stood slowly, tail brushing across the floor, his eyes drawn eastward, to Liyue, to a quiet, gold-eyed warrior who shouldn’t still be in his thoughts.
‘Why do I still feel pulled?’
Later That Morning - The Greenhouse
Humidity wrapped around the interior of the greenhouse like a second skin. Tighnari stood over a tray of Starshrooms, tweezers in hand, his tail flicking as he inspected the leaves for fungal spots. He didn’t look up when Cyno entered but his ears twitched.
“You’re walking,” he muttered. “Bold move.”
“I’m taking the day off, taking a trip” Cyno said without leaving any room for argument. That got Tighnari’s attention. Slowly, the fox turned toward him with one brow already raised.
“…Are you dying? Most animals leave home when they're nearing their end-”
“Then explain.” Tighnari demanded with a bristled tail, clearly annoyed.
Nari stared at him. “To track down the smugglers?” he asked flatly.
“No. I already reassigned that task. This is…personal.”
Tighnari blinked once, Slowly. “Personal,” he repeated.
“I want to find the man I fought.” Tighnari set his tools down with mechanical patience. “The one who nearly killed you?”
“I want to know who he is.”
“What exactly is the plan here? Stumble into the mountains, shout into the void, hope he shows up again with a ‘Hi, sorry about the death match’ let’s talk mystery man?”
“I brought a translation book,” Cyno said seriously.
Tighnari closed his eyes.
“I also updated my Akasha settings-” Cyno was cut off mid sentence. “Archons help me, I am going to feed you to the first Rishboland tiger I see.”
There was a moment of strained silence.
“...You’re not going to let this go, are you?” Tighnari finally said, resigned.
Tighnari sighed loudly, running a hand down his face. “Cyno, This isn’t like you.”
“I know.” the jackal admitted.
“You don’t even know who he is.”
“I’m hoping to find out.”
A long sigh left the fox’s lungs as he rubbed at his temples.
“Fine, take the day off. But if you come back with more holes than you left with, I’m personally going to shave your tail and feed it to the Sumpter Beasts’
Cyno nodded. “Acceptable terms.”
Tighnari was already turning away when he paused, then slowly turned back, eyes narrowing. He scanned Cyno from head to toe, gaze growing increasingly offended.
“..Your tail,” he muttered. “It looks like you rolled through a thorn bush.”
“And your ears. When was the last time you brushed them? They’re matted. And uneven. Cyno, have you even been grooming?”
Tighnari walked a tight circle around him, tail lashing like a drawn whip.
“I gave you specific instructions on how to care for your fur while it’s healing.” Tighnari circled him once, muttering. “You’re shedding unevenly. You didn’t brush behind the ears. Is that dirt? You look like a half-plucked chicken.”
“I’m not going for aesthetics.”
Tighnari shot him a flat look. “You’re going into Liyue, on foot, covered in patchy fur and bandages, searching for a mysterious stranger that nearly killed you and you don’t think presentation matters?”
“I brought a translation book.”
“Oh yes, that’ll fix everything. Go on, show up looking like a molting housepet.”
“...Should I brush my ears?”
Cyno turned toward the exit, grumbling something inaudible.
“And wear your cloak!” Tighnari called after him. “If you catch a cold on top of your wounds, I swear I'll give you a real reason to stay bedridden!”
Cyno rarely walked without purpose.
Every journey he took was calculated, backed by orders or duty or justice. He always knew where he was going, why he was going, and what lawbreakers would await him at the end of the road.
This time, he was simply walking.
The forests thinned as he moved eastward, following a dusty trail that eventually opened into the wide, moss-draped rock formations that marked the transition into Liyue’s wilder cliffs. His Anubis ears twitched occasionally, filtering singing birds and distant bell echoes from mountain villages or shrines.
And yet his mind refused to settle.
The air smelled different here. Rich with incense and wet stone. There was no trail to follow. No scent of crime. Just that one flicker of presence etched into memory. He pulled the collar of his cloak tighter, tail flicking with faint irritation as he walked.
He should turn around. There was no logic to any of this.
How would he even find him? Where would he begin?
He stopped at the cliff where they’d fought. The ground was undisturbed now, the blood long dried or washed away by mountain rain. No spear marks, no boot prints, Just wind.
He stood there in silence for several minutes, letting the stillness press against his skin. His ears twitched once…then lowered. There was nothing. Whoever he’d fought had vanished like smoke.
He sighed through his nose, then turned and continued downward toward the next logical step: the Harbor.
Liyue Harbor – Early Afternoon
It was noisier than he expected.
Carts clattered down the stone bridges. Merchants shouted over dumpling steam and sugar-roasted chestnuts. Strings of lanterns criss crossed above like floating constellations. The smell of the ocean mingled with spices and ink.
Cyno stood awkwardly near the outer market stalls, clutching his translation notebook in one hand and his Akasha synced for Liyuen dialects.
He approached the first older vendor he saw, an incense seller with more lines on her face than even the rock beneath her feet.
“Excuse me,” Cyno said, checking his notes. “I am looking…for a person.”
The woman smiled politely. “Oh? A relative?”
“No. A…spear person. Gold eyes. Quiet. medium hair. Wears blue and white…I think. Glares a lot.” His translations were a bit jagged but he hoped he was making some sense.
She blinked. “Do you mean uh…that vendor over there?”
A few children ran past laughing. One of them stopped and pointed. “Mom, look! That guy has rabbit ears!”
Cyno’s ears twitched annoyed as the akasha picked up the translation.
He continued down the harbor, repeating his awkward line to multiple vendors. The only responses he got were confused shrugs, misdirections to opera houses or someone pointing him to the Millelith recruitment station.
He was on the verge of giving up when an elderly man sweeping the stone steps nearby paused and looked at him thoughtfully.
“Gold eyes, you say?” the man murmured. “And carried a jade spear…?”
Cyno nodded as the Akasha picked up on the man’s voice.
“I’ve never seen him,” the man continued, “but I’ve heard of someone like that. They say he’s one of the last of the Adepti. A guardian spirit from the war era. Doesn’t speak much. Vanishes when seen. If it’s who I think you’re talking about…you won’t find him easily.”
Cyno’s ears perked slightly. “Guardian spirit…Where should I look?”
The old man hummed, resting both hands atop his broom.
“He’s not a man of the crowd. They say he stays in quiet places. Cliffs, ruins, abandoned shrines. Anywhere where the world is silent enough to carry your thoughts.”
Cyno glanced down at his notebook, then up at the rooftops of the harbor. The crowd felt suddenly loud. Suffocating.
“Thank you,” he said and turned to leave.
Evening – Wandering the quiet reaches of Liyue
He spent the rest of the day traversing cliffsides, combing through peaceful groves, crossing plank bridges between mountain peaks. He found traces of fights, ruin guards dismantled, slashed in the joints and hilichurls knocked unconscious with clean strikes. But no sign of their attacker.
Still, he pressed on. Even when his muscles ached, even when his tail dragged.
He wasn't sure what he was hoping for. Answers? Another apology? Maybe just… understanding.
Cyno had traveled all around Liyue with no hope, luckily he had a map where he decided to take a break at the nearest Inn.
He reached Wangshu Inn near dusk. The bridge creaked beneath his feet as he made his way to the innkeeper and quietly paid for a room. The receptionist didn’t ask many questions, just glanced at the tail, the ears, the bandages and seemed to decide ‘this man has seen enough today’ before handing over the key.
Moments later, Cyno was at the top balcony of the inn, on the highest floor, leaning on the railing.
He sighed, taking out his notebook and translation scrawls. His ears drooped slightly as he watched the sun vanish behind the peaks. No leads. No clues.
And yet, still he hadn’t turned back.
“...This is stupid,” he muttered under his breath. “This is not how I operate.”
The ruin guard’s body lay still beneath him, smoke curling faintly from the pierced core.
Xiao sat cross-legged atop its collapsed head, arms resting loosely across his knees, his spear lying within reach. The wind stirred gently through the high peaks of Liyue, brushing strands of dark hair across his cheek.
And yet, despite the silence around him… his thoughts refused to still.
He could’ve killed an innocent person, he could have caused conflict between his Lord and the Lesser Lord.
The memory struck again, sharp as the point of a spear. Silver hair, red eyes, a sharp glint of fangs, a dark energy that wasn’t abyssal but also wasn’t purely divine.
‘And I went straight for the throat.’
He closed his eyes briefly, jaw tightening. What if he had been someone important? What if I had caused conflict between Sumeru and Liyue?
Xiao’s grip tightened on his knee. His tallon like claws dug in slightly.
“Stupid,” he muttered under his breath. “Reckless.”
He let out a sharp exhale, turning his head to glance down at the ruin guard’s remains.
Then, a flicker. A rustle, too close. He rose in an instant.
From behind a jagged boulder, a faint shimmer distorted the air, khaenri’ahn symbols forming in the space like a puzzle locking into place.
Xiao didn’t hesitate. The spear snapped into his hand with a swirl of Anemo. He hurled it straight into the shimmering veil, piercing through the elemental shield as it unraveled in a screech of disrupted magic.
The abyss mage gave a sharp shriek before it could cast a spell, the spear pinning it through the chest mid-hover. Xiao appeared beside it in a blur of movement, his expression unreadable.
One clean, brutal motion and the creature vanished in a swirl of dissolving ashes. He stood over the dissipating mist, chest rising slightly with breath.
They're getting bolder again…
His gaze flicked toward the west.
He didn’t know what frustrated him more, his own carelessness or the fact that even now, he still felt off-balance.
Then suddenly something tugged at him. A presence, not the Abyss, not the Gods. Something in-between. That energy again…
A faint thrum. Like the low hum of tension before a lightning strike.
He raised his eyes to the horizon.
The wind shifted, brushing against his cheek like breath, pulling his gaze eastward toward Wangshu Inn.
The words left him like a whisper. Xiao turned toward the cliff’s edge and disappeared into the wind.
Cyno leaned over the upper balcony railing of Wangshu Inn, his elbows braced and claws faintly curled against the wood. The air was cool against his face, touched by the scent of marsh water and distant incense. Below, the world was quiet.
He clicked his tongue and pushed back from the railing, raking both hands through his hair in visible frustration.
“What am I even doing…” he muttered under his breath.
He’d wasted an entire day chasing a shadow. Roaming through Liyue like a foreign fool with a notebook and a half-functional dictionary. No real leads, no purpose. He hadn’t even known the name of the man he was looking for, just golden eyes and a weight that still clung to his chest like smoke.
“So childish,” he said aloud. “I’m not supposed to be like this.”
He, the General Mahamatra, spending a full day chasing a stranger, emotions clouding his judgment like sandstorms across the desert.
He gave a rough sigh and plopped his chin against his palm, staring off at the dying sun.
Just then, at the corner of his eye, he saw a figure, standing right beside him. Cyno felt goosebumps run along his spine, causing his tail to bristle. As soon as he turned his head, he was met with…nothing. Was he seeing things now?
“Great, now I’m hallucina-” Cyno was caught mid sentence once he turned his gaze back towards the scenery to be met with two golden eyes, staring right through him.
He jolted back startled, his notebook slipped from his hands, scattering across the wooden planks.
The figure caught him, a hand curling into the edge of his cloak, steady but not forceful. Just enough to keep him grounded.
Cyno blinked hard, staring up into golden eyes.
It was him. The same sharp features, the same ink-green markings that ran along his arms. The same eerie, crushing presence.
But this time, they weren’t fighting.
This time, there was recognition in the silence.
Xiao held his gaze for a long moment, then released his grip gently. Xiao was crouched down on the railing, keeping a steady unmoving balance. He opened his mouth to speak but then remembered about their language barrier. Without a word, he raised his hands.
His fingers moved with fluid precision.
Cyno’s Akasha flickered to life at his temple, scanning the motion and quietly translating Xiao’s signs into Sumerian words which appeared in his vision:
[“I saw you were looking for me all over Liyue.”]
[“Are you still upset about what I’ve done?”]
Cyno crouched to gather his notes again, flipping through one until he found his translation page, lines of scribbled Liyuen phrases written in a mixture of neat and desperate strokes. He hesitated, then cleared his throat, attempting to speak the words out loud, clumsily piecing together the tones:
“Not stalker. Not upset. Just… curious.”
He winced slightly. The pronunciation was off, the rhythm worse. It probably sounded like a warning in some dialect.
And then, unexpectedly his expression shifted. He turned his head slightly, raising the back of his hand to cover his mouth. Not because he was offended but to stifle something else entirely.
Barely a breath of it but there all the same.
“...I know I butchered that,” he muttered in Sumerian. “Don’t laugh.”
Xiao didn’t respond but the glint in his eye was unmistakable.
Cyno stood straighter, brushing off his cloak. Then, more clearly, he pressed a hand to his chest and introduced himself, though his Liyuen was far from graceful:
“Name…I am Cyno. General Mahamatra of Sumeru.”
The title lingered in the air like a held breath. Xiao’s eyes sharpened. He blinked once, then raised a hand to sign:
[“You…are an important figure? A General?”]
The Akasha translated with a soft pulse in Cyno’s vision.
Cyno nodded once, deliberately. “Yes. I am,” he admitted. “But not here to arrest or fight. Your name?”
That answer seemed to surprise Xiao but he didn’t question it. But once it came to his name, he hesitated a little.
[“My name is to no importance”]
His gaze drifted downward, narrowing faintly. Cyno followed his line of sight, realizing only now that the edge of his bandages had slipped into view beneath the cloak.
Xiao looked back up, face unreadable, and signed again:
[Are your wounds still bad?]
Cyno glanced at his side.
“They sting, I’ll live,” he replied simply. “You are…very skilled”
Xiao looked at him strangely. People didn’t usually say that.
Then, in a quiet voice, spoken this time, he said:
The words, fluent and heavy in a thick Liyuen accent, caught Cyno off-guard. The voice didn’t match what he expected. It was calm, low. Almost…careful. Even if Cyno didn’t understand what the other said because his Akasha didn’t pick up the silent tone, he could tell it was filled with guilt and apologetic.
Xiao sat down on the railing from his crouching position before he slowly signed again:
[‘I shouldn't have attacked. I thought…you were something else”]
Cyno nodded in response, accepting his apology without a second thought. “I thought the same. I apologize”.
The silence lingered after Xiao’s quiet apology. Neither of them moved from the balcony. The wind picked up slightly, brushing across the marshlands, bending the reeds far below. It was Xiao who broke the stillness first. His hand moved carefully, deliberate in the dim moonlight.
The Akasha blinked at Cyno’s temple and translated:
[“Why did you come looking for me?”]
Cyno blinked, startled slightly. He hesitated, not out of fear but out of uncertainty. How was he supposed to explain this when he barely understood it himself?
He quickly flipped open his notebook again, thumbing through the cluttered pages, a mess of scribbled Liyuen, broken pronunciation guides, and tiny drawings. At last, he found the one where he had written down a name spoken to him by an old man in the harbor.
He held the notebook up toward Xiao.
“Yaksha? Spirit guardian? I heard you might be one.”
The Akasha scanned his writing and gave the foreign pronunciation, jumbled but legible. Xiao’s eyes shifted slightly, his expression unreadable. His hands moved.
Cyno shook his head immediately. “No, I only heard the name. I wanted to know... more.”
Xiao looked away, toward the distant line of mountains, his golden eyes dimming slightly under the weight of the past. Then his hands moved again, slower this time.
[“I’m the last. The others are gone.”]
The words were simple but his posture changed. Cyno didn’t respond at first, not because he didn’t care but because he didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t good with grief. He didn’t know how to reach into someone else's pain.
He hesitated, then turned a few more pages in his notebook. The Akasha hummed quietly as he wrote a new message.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t come to hurt you.”
Xiao didn’t answer immediately, Instead, his gaze sharpened slightly. He looked directly at Cyno now, not hostile but searching.
Then, carefully, his hands moved again:
The Akasha translated again, its voice a little slower:
[“You’re mortal but not. I felt it in you.”]
Cyno stared at him. Not offended, just...thoughtful. He scratched behind his ear awkwardly, then flipped back to his notes.
“Don’t know how to explain.. I was human. I was changed”
Xiao’s gaze didn’t waver.
Cyno glanced at his claws, his ears then down to the bristles of his tail. He gestured to himself and tried to form the Liyuen words slowly, stumbling on his accent:
“Immortal. Not God. Not beast. Um…In between?”
He tapped a symbol he had drawn earlier, a weird shaped heart surrounded by script, then tapped his chest.
“Ba fragment. Given to me and took root.”
Xiao tilted his head slightly, he was starting to understand. It was in a way some kind of possession but the user still had full control, unlike him who loses control due to his karma. He signed again:
[“It doesn’t feel evil But it’s not clean, either.”]
Cyno gave a small huff through his nose. “That makes two of us then.” But he didn’t press the comparison. He let it sit there, unsaid.
Xiao didn’t look offended, more curious. His expression was calmer now but his gaze remained cautious, like he was still deciding if this stranger was worth trusting beyond this night.
Then, after a beat of silence, Xiao’s hands moved again:
[“Most people forget me after one night. Lose interest. But you came back just because of…curiosity?”]
There was no bitterness in it, just fact.
Cyno looked at him directly.
“I don’t forget things that leave an impression.”
The balcony was silent again but it wasn’t uncomfortable, it was settling, accepting. An unspoken understanding, their conversation.
The lanterns had long since dimmed and the moon hung high above the marsh, casting silver light across the surface of the water. Wind moved gently through the trees and the world seemed to hush around it.
Cyno and Xiao stood at the edge of the balcony. While Xiao sat on the railing with unmoving balance, Cyno simply leaned against it, not testing his luck. Cyno remained grounded, ears flicking every now and then, watching him from the corner of his eye without ever pushing. How long have they stood there, just gazing in silence, maybe an hour? Two hours?
After a long stretch of silence, Xiao finally spoke.
“You should-” Xiao halted when he saw Cyno tilting his head, he forgot. He gestured his hands slowly.
“You should go home,” he said, voice quiet as he signed. “You found what you were looking for.”
Cyno glanced back at the moonlit marsh before flipping open his notebook, he scribbled something down.
“Do you think we can ever meet again?”
Xiao looked down at his hand, thinking. Meeting again? For what purpose? He’s just a stranger, a stranger from another nation, a stranger that Xiao took no interest in, a stranger he could choose to forget…and yet…
The Adeptus placed his hand on his chest “Xiao.”
Cyno’s eyes widened slightly, Xiao? What did that word mean? He quickly flipped through his pages to only find small meanings that didn't make sense to his question. Then, it clicked in his mind.
“Wait is that your-” Before he can even finish, a swirl of mist rose gently next to him, and he was gone.
Cyno didn’t move, he didn’t chase this time. That was all he needed to hear. He didn’t know what he was after or why he felt so drawn in to this..spirit person, could have just been curiosity? Something more? He sure wasn’t finding his answer tonight.
He stood there for a moment longer, letting the absence settle before his gaze dropped. One of his loose notebook pages had slipped free, caught beneath the edge of a large vase next to him. He bent down and picked it up, brushing away a streak of dust. It was the same page from earlier, hastily scribbled and badly drawn figures from when he was looking for the man.
‘Mysterious figure, possibly someone possessed by something abyssal?’
Cyno stared at the words for a second before dragging a thin line clean through the text. Underneath he wrote:
‘Xiao, (last?) Guardian Spirit, Yaksha, Not dangerous but dangerous to forget.’
He then tucked the page back into his journal. Tail flicking once behind him, he walked back slowly into the inn. The wood creaked beneath his steps but the cold no longer reached his skin.
Somewhere in the distance, a flute played faintly for the dying lantern light.
Two days later, Gandharva Ville was alive with the soft murmurs of wildlife and the scent of herbal leaves wafting from shaded huts.
Cyno stepped onto the main platform just as the sun dipped behind the treetops. His cloak dusted with marsh dirt and his ears twitching faintly from fatigue. His satchel was thicker than from when he had left. He spent the entire day collecting books around Liyue, trying to improve this new Language while also doing more research on Liyue’s warriors.
Collei, who was rearranging herbs and mushrooms on the outer deck, perked up immediately. “Master Cyno! Welcome back!”
“Hey Collei,” he replied, voice quieter than usual. “Sorry to vanish like that”
Her eyes scanned the bandages peeking beneath his cloak. “It’s okay, let me change your bandages. Are your wounds okay?”
He waved it off gently. “Healing, slowly”
Before she could ask anything else, a shaper voice cut across the clearing.
“Oh so you decided to come back” Tighnari annoyed, stepping out of the main hut with a disapproving frown, his arms crossed over his chest. “You were gone for two full days, you said half a day max!” No location updates, no follow-up messages, no tail brushing, clearly.”
Collei giggled behind her hands.
Tighnari marched up to him, inspecting him like a botanist with a misbehaving fungus. “And just look at this,” he muttered, gently tugging at Cyno’s tail with gloved hands. “It’s matted, again. I told you to brush it daily. Archon’s why didn't you keep him human”
Cyno, still half-dead from travel, replied deadpan: “it’s not easy maintaining a fluffy image during spiritual duress”
Collei coughed into her hand to stifle her laugh.
Tighnari raised an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”
“No,” Cyno spoke. “It was supposed to be pun-ishment.”
Nari just stared. “I regret asking,” he muttered. “Collei, can you get me the brush kit from my room? We’re fixing this before dinner.” Collei disappeared inside with a cheerful “Yes, sir!”
Once she was gone, Tighnari glanced sideways at Cyno “So, did you get answers?”
The fox hummed in response, already beginning to gently detangle a knot in Cyno’s tail fur. “Well, that sounds like you.”
They fell into silence for a moment before Cyno found his voice again. “But I think I found something worth understanding.”
Tighnari didn't ask for more. He just nodded and continued grooming his tail. The forest slowly settled into its night rhythm, soft and steady.
Since I know I'm gonna be stalling to finish the drawings for each chapter (Since I'm gonna be busy for a while) I didn't want to delay each chapter for like 2 months, that would suck-
So I decided to post the chapters anyway and when I get free time, I'll update the chapters with their drawn out scenes.
With that being said, I'll post each chapter daily for the rest of this week until it ends.
