Khal had never seen real snow before.

  Not until now.

  It wasn’t heavy yet — just flurries in the wind, brushing across the hills like a whisper. But it was cold enough to sting his fingers and bite through the thin clothes he’d borrowed from the donation crates at the edge of the village.

  The fox-creature — silver fur now dusted white — didn’t seem to mind. It walked ahead confidently, paws barely leaving prints in the frost-covered dirt. Like it belonged here.

  Khal pulled the rough wool tighter around himself and followed.

  He still didn’t know where they were going.

  It had been three days since Lira handed him the wooden dagger.

  He hadn’t done anything useful with it yet. He’d swung it around once or twice in private — mostly hitting himself in the knee — and then stuffed it into his belt and pretended he knew what he was doing.

  The truth was: he didn’t.

  He still flinched at raised voices. Still avoided eye contact. Still froze every time someone shouted across the village square.

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  But something had shifted.

  Something small. Quiet.

  He didn’t want to run as quickly as before.

  “Where are we going?” he asked the fox, half-laughing to himself.

  It looked back. Blinked. Then kept walking.

  Right. Of course. No answer.

  Still, Khal followed.

  They ended up near the edge of the woods — far enough that the trees had names whispered by old farmers, but not deep enough to risk monsters. Probably.

  He stopped at a dead tree, its bark blackened by lightning.

  That’s when he heard it — the growl.

  Low. Rough. Behind him.

  Khal turned slowly, dread crawling up his spine.

  A creature stood there, maybe ten meters away. Dog-shaped, but wrong. Too many joints. A mouth that opened too far sideways. Pale fur that seemed to flicker like static.

  It growled again.

  Khal’s hand went to the wooden dagger on instinct.

  As if that would help.

  The fox stepped in front of him, back arched, teeth bared. Tiny. Defiant.

  “No,” Khal breathed. “Don’t— You’ll get hurt.”

  The creature lunged.

  Khal didn’t remember moving.

  He just remembered the crack of wood against bone. The jolt of pain up his arm. The smell of sweat and fear and frost.

  And then silence.

  The thing — whatever it was — scrambled off into the trees, whimpering.

  Khal collapsed to his knees, chest heaving.

  The dagger — now splintered — was still in his hand.

  The fox licked his wrist, tail swaying low.

  “I… I didn’t run,” he whispered.

  He looked down at his shaking hands.

  “I didn’t run.”

  [SYSTEM NOTICE: Instinctual Courage Detected.]

  [Heart of Becoming – Stage 1: Flicker of Will acknowledged.]

  [New System Feature Unlocked: Soul-Link (Dormant Familiar Bond)]

  A warmth pulsed through Khal’s chest — faint, but real.

  He didn’t feel strong. Not even close.

  But he felt awake.

  And for now… that was enough.