Raveena felt the painful pressure first in her chest, like her heart had been cinched with string. Then, there was light-headedness, and her ears rang faintly. The menu in her hands blurred for a second.
"Miss Raveena Hartwell."
The pounding in her chest became deafening.
She couldn't even tell if Professor Vellmore was still speaking, if his words were for her, or if he was spinning some snide little commentary to Professor Vask. Her thoughts were scrambled, torn between the present and the memories she had no intention of reliving.
But then, she caught some words, he said something about how she still lacked manners.
"—not even responding when someone's addressing her directly."
That was the last straw.
Without looking up, she slammed both palms firmly on the table. Just loud enough to grab attention, and sure enough, heads turned their way.
Professor Vask's concerned eyes looked at her immediately. "Hey, are you—?"
"I'm sorry," Raveena answered quickly. "I need to get some air, may I?"
"S-sure," Professor Vask said. "Take your time."
Raveena didn't wait to hear the rest.
She turned on her heel and walked toward the exit. She kept her head down as she passed the other tables, past other guests, other conversations, all momentarily hushed by the tension she left behind.
Through the doors of the dining hall, then out of the Summit venue, into the evening air.
Raveena didn't stop walking until the voices, the rustle of coats, all of it, had faded into the trees behind her.
Not until she felt safe.
Eventually, she found herself on a winding path just off the main promenade. A place where lamps flickered and lit the cobblestone ground through the low fog. She found a stone bench, which sat near the entrance to a well-manicured hedge maze.
There, she sat down slowly. Then slouched forward, elbows on her knees, palms pressed to her face.
"Why did I run?"
That was the first thought. The most frustrating one.
She let her hands drop, fingers curling into her lap as her shoulders tensed.
"Didn't I promise Mom I'd stop being like this?"
But the panic had crept up on her too fast, like it always did. She thought she'd be able to handle leaving that name behind. But like Professor Vellmore said, it had only been a few months. All she experienced was a train ride, being given a new name, and a month of talking to new schoolmates.
But it wasn't enough time yet, she hadn't even had time to actually become Raveena Vesper.
"It's not fair…" she thought. "Why would he go out of his way to say that here?"
She'd already had enough of it back in Westwyn, and here she hoped things would go differently.
Raveena's fists clenched together in her lap, tight enough that her knuckles burned. She felt something sting, but to be treated like that, it hurt far worse.
She hung her head low, eyes squeezed shut as she tried to hold the tears in.
"No more crying. No more crying."
Then suddenly, "Hey," a light, easygoing voice called out. "You alright there? You feelin' sick or something?"
Raveena didn't lift her head. Didn't answer. She didn't want to talk to anyone right now.
So, she sat still, hoping the stranger would take the hint and walk on. Let it look rude. Let it look cold. She didn't care. She just wanted space.
"Whoa, wait—hey, you're bleeding!"
Her focus snapped back, and she forced her eyes open.
She looked down and saw that her right hand was clenched so tightly that her nails had broken the skin of her palm. From inside her grip, blood was already starting to seep through.
"Great."
Still, she didn't move.
But then… she heard one, no, three footsteps.
She saw a bit of the figure crouch beside the bench.
Then came a clean, folded handkerchief. Offered gently in front of her.
"Here," the stranger said. "You don't have to talk, but, uh—maybe let's keep your hand from dripping all over this fancy bench, yeah?"
Raveena's brow twitched. Because this stranger's random kindness was starting to get on her nerves.
Slowly, she looked up, ready to glare and intimidate.
In front of her knelt a young man… wolf-folk? No… fox-folk? His ears were sharp and wolfish, but the tail swaying lightly behind him was unmistakably a fox's.
His attire was nothing like what she expected. It had the drape and detail of something traditional, but also the flair of someone important. White silks layered with silver and orange accents were matched by hanging rings that produced a soft jingle with every move. His ears bore a few delicate piercings, gold and silver and looped with tiny chains. A style that seemed… too bold for someone who sounded so relaxed.
But his golden eyes held pure worry and showed no hints of mischief.
"May I?" he asked gently, reaching for her hand.
Raveena hesitated… then unclenched her fist, just slightly as she let him take it.
With gentle fingers, he used the handkerchief to wipe the blood from her palm. Then, without asking this time, he reached into the inside of his coat and pulled out a second cloth which he wrapped snugly around her hand.
"Gotta say," he spoke as he worked on her hand gently, "I've seen people punch walls before, but clenching your fist so hard that your nails dig into it? If I'd have a zenny for each time I've seen someone do that, I'd have three, still… that's not many."
"There," the man then said as he tied the last knot. "Sorry if that was a bit much. Just couldn't walk past and ignore a lady looking like that."
She didn't respond, and instead stared up at him before she looked down at her bandaged hand.
The man dusted his palms lightly and straightened up. "So… are you a guest at the Summit?"
Still no answer from her. But surprisingly, he didn't seem fazed.
"Well, if you are, then that makes two of us. I'm not sure what got you so upset back in there, but hey, I won't pry."
He stretched his arms once and let out a relaxed sigh. After that, he pointed to the open spot at the edge of the bench. "Mind if I sit for a bit? That walk back from town was longer than I thought. Had to pick something up, and my legs are beat."
Raveena stared at him again for a long moment, then responded with a small nod. She shifted to the side slightly to make room.
Smiling at the welcome, the man dropped into the seat. And as he leaned back, Raveena simply looked forward and quietly wondered how long it would take before this strange fox-wolf hybrid finally left her alone.
The man reached into one of the many folds of his peculiar coat and pulled out a small, curved object.
Raveena didn't turn her head to look directly at it, but from the shape, its material of polished wood, and the way he held it, she could guess well enough.
"A pipe. Great, a smoker."
She sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead, the dizziness still lingering just enough to make the world feel slightly tilted.
Before she could even roll her eyes properly, the man spoke up again. "Oh. Is it alright if I smoke here?"
She said nothing and instead kept rubbing her temples in silence.
"It's not tobacco, if that's what you're worried about. Just a blend of herbs, mostly calming ones. Promise."
Raveena finally turned her head slightly, just enough to glare at him.
"Suit yourself," she muttered.
The man smiled at her answer. "Thanks."
He pulled out a tiny pouch, pinched a bit of dried green from inside, and began packing the bowl of the pipe. A moment later, he flicked open a match and lit the blend with a small fwhoosh. Then, he took a puff.
A thin ribbon of pale smoke curled upward. It held a scent that wasn't unpleasant. Raveena could smell a bit of it between flowers and pinewood.
To his credit, he leaned the smoke away from her.
"You know, this place… anywhere in Eastwyn, really. It's a lot different from Westwyn," the man spoke as he tapped the edge of his pipe gently, as if thinking aloud. "Feels more peaceful. Simpler. Don't you think?"
Raveena's ears twitched.
She didn't look at him, but she did answer. "...Yeah. It's different."
"Oh? You from Westwyn too?"
That made her look at him, just slightly. Just enough to see how painfully friendly he looked, his eyes seemed like he wasn't used to being shut out of anything.
This time, however, she looked away, not saying a word.
"Ah," he said after a bit, leaning back a bit. "Got it. I'll take that as a yes."
Then he chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he puffed. "No offense, but… you didn't really seem like one of the big guests or delegates. Kinda refreshing, actually. A fellow Westwyn soul out here in Eastwyn, and one that doesn't talk like their wallet does the walking."
"What?" Raveena asked.
"I'm just saying that I've had enough of those back home to last me five lifetimes, I kinda hate it."
Raveena scoffed. "With how fancy you look, I'm surprised no one's called you a hypocrite yet."
The man burst into a laugh, as if he was more glad to hear a longer answer from the panther-folk. "Right? I agree! Honestly, I wouldn't blame them," then he gestured loosely at his own outfit with his pipe. "This is just how I have to look. Appearances and all. But trust me, I've really had enough of rich people."
Raveena gave him a long, skeptical look. Took in the embroidered cuffs, the polished boots, the jewelry glinting in his ears.
"…Sure."
He grinned wider. "Aha! Well, look at that. She spoke three times in a row."
Then, suddenly remembering his manners, he cleared his throat and tucked his pipe away.
"Sorry, sorry, chatting your ears off like this. Should've introduced myself properly," he said as he extended a hand. "You can call me Kir."
Raveena eyed the hand, then looked away again. "…Raveena."
Then Kir chuckled awkwardly, pulling his hand back with a little wave. "Raveena, huh? That's a nice name. Does it mean anything?"
"Huh?"
"Y'know, names usually mean something, right? Just curious. Something to talk about."
Raveena shook her head. "It means nothing."
"Oh? Really?" Kir tilted his head. "Huh. Can't help it then. I just like names that sound mysterious, and yours sounded like a mysterious one."
He leaned back on the bench again, resting one arm across the backrest. "As for mine, Kir? It sounds kinda absurd, but apparently, it's the name of some old dragon-folk from way back in the day. Lived in the Wonderforest, breathed wind, or time, or whatever dragons used to do before the world got complicated."
Raveena glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
He shrugged. "But honestly? As I got older, I just chalked it up to my parents being lazy. They gave me a three-letter name. Same with my two siblings. All of us, three letters, each."
He held up three fingers in Raveena's direction and smiled. "Like they just gave up after the second syllable."
Raveena huffed softly through her nose.
"C'mon," Kir said, nudging the air in front of him with his elbow. "Between 'named after an ancient dragon' and 'lazy naming pattern,' you know which one sounds more believable. How about you? What do you think?"
"...It sounds silly," she paused, then added with another glance his way, "and lazy."
"See? I knew it! Finally, someone agrees," Kir exclaimed. He took one last puff, flicked the ash away, then checked the pocket watch tucked into his coat. "Oof. Late for dinner. Again. Unbelievable."
Then he stood up, brushing some ashes off his coat. "Well, this was a fun little chat. Hope whatever bad mood you're swimming in clears up soon."
Raveena looked ahead. "Yeah. Sure."
She reached over to her wounded hand and started to loosen the bandage, assuming he might want the cloth back, but Kir raised a hand quickly.
"Nah. No need. Keep it."
Raveena paused, then simply nodded, re-tightening the knot without another word.
"Oh—before I go. You should have some of this," Kir reached into his coat again to return his pipe, then with the other, he extended a hand to her. "Give me your hand."
Raveena eyed him warily, suspicious about how this was the second time he went for physical contact.
Kir chuckled at her reaction. "Relax. It's not... whatever you're thinking it is. No curses, promise."
Raveena sighed and reluctantly held out her bandaged hand.
"No, no—not that one. The other hand," Kir snorted out with a giddy smile.
With a sigh that bordered on annoyed, Raveena extended her other hand.
Kir then reached further into his coat. From a different inner pocket, he took out a tiny glass bottle with a cork stopper, no larger than her thumb. Carefully, he set it into her palm and then closed her fingers around it with his own.
"There," he said. "Healing salve. Courtesy of some Southwyn family whose name I definitely forgot, but I promise, it's the real deal."
Raveena looked down at the bottle. "What for?"
"I figured you might want to use it on your hand. I don't know how important your hands are to you, but… y'know. Just in case. Might as well take care of yourself."
Raveena lowered her hand, holding the bottle carefully. "…Thank you."
"No problem," Kir nodded, then he stretched his arms once more behind his back, letting out a light groan. "Welp. I should probably wander back before my people send a search party."
"See you around, Raveena," he said as he threw a casual wave over his shoulder. Then, he turned and walked toward the path curving along the hedge maze.
Raveena watched him go and disappear around the corner.
She heard a faint thud. Followed by a startled squeak.
"S-Sorry!" came a high-pitched voice, one that was way too familiar.
Kir's voice followed. "Oof, no worries! Are you okay?"
"Y-Yes! Thank you…"
Raveena narrowed her eyes toward the bend.
Then, out from behind the hedge, peeked a familiar set of pastel pink ears, twitching uncertainly above a crown of equally pink hair.
Followed by a wide pair of violet-purple eyes.
Raveena's eyes widened. "…Aya?"
The rabbit-folk tilted her head outward at the sound of her name before stepping out fully from behind the hedge with a carefree bounce in her steps.
"Hi, Raveena!"