It's been three days since this Pokémon saved my life from that Drapion.

  Three long, freezing, pain-choked days since I thought I was going to die in the snow with its claws tearing me apart.

  It's been rough, but the medicinal herbs that they have been bringing me have helped a lot with the pain.

  But the worst part isn't the pain.

  It's not the cold either, though that still bites at night, nor is it the hunger gnawing at me.

  It's the silence.

  The hours upon hours of silence

  The kind that presses in around you until your thoughts start to echo. Until every little sound, your breath, your heartbeat, the way your coat rustles when you shift, feels too loud.

  It's not peaceful or calming. It itches at the inside of my head, dull and constant, like a presence that's just waiting for me to fall apart.

  But at least I'm not alone, not with her here.

  The Pokémon that saved me.

  She sits across from me again as she has for the last three days, white and red fur flickering like a dying fire, eyes sharp as ice.

  I don't know what she is not exactly. Some kind of Pokémon, of that I'm sure of. One I've never seen or heard stories about.

  It was on the second day that I even discovered the Pokémon was a she; while she was curled near the fire, I caught a glimpse of just a shift of her legs, just enough to make it clear.

  I know she understands me.

  She can't speak the way people can. I don't expect her to. Pokémon don't speak our language. But the silence feels purposeful. It's like she's choosing not to offer me anything more than what is necessary.

  I shift slightly, dragging myself a few inches closer to the cave wall, trying to keep the wind off my back. Pain shoots up my leg, sharp and sudden, but I don't cry out.

  I glance over at her.

  She hasn't moved.

  Golden eyes reflect the dim light, steady and quiet, never blinking for long. She doesn't twitch, doesn't flinch.

  I run a hand through my hair, slow and stiff.

  "Are you just going to watch me all day again?"

  She doesn't answer. Of course, she doesn't.

  But her ears turn slightly toward me.

  I press on, my voice dry. "I mean… you're just waiting for me to get better, I assume."

  Silence.

  My throat tightens. I rub at the edge of my sleeve, suddenly too aware of how small I feel.

  "You can't talk like a human. I get that. I really do. But it'd be nice to have some sort of response other than just you staring at me all day."

  No response.

  The silence stretches again. She doesn't even blink.

  I let out a shaky breath. "Do you have a name?."

  Still nothing.

  I glance down. "That's a dumb question...you probably call yourself whatever species you are, like other Pokémon...but I can give you a name if you want?."

  No response.

  I try anyway.

  "Ghosty?"

  No reaction.

  "uh…Luma?"

  A stare is all I receive.

  "Wisp? Sylvi?"

  Stillness.

  Then, after a long pause, "...Zira?."

  She doesn't react. She doesn't acknowledge what I said at all.

  But the last name sounds nice.

  Day 4

  She's gone when I wake.

  For a moment, panic flares in my chest, sharp and irrational, like waking from a nightmare only to find that the worst part hasn't ended yet.

  I sit up too quickly. Pain lances through my leg like lightning, and I clamp my jaw shut to keep from crying out. The air is colder than yesterday. My breath fogs in front of me, thin and fleeting. The place that she usually lays down to observe is empty.

  No flicker of white and red fur. No golden eyes watching from the dark.

  Just stone.

  Just the cold.

  I stare at that spot longer than I should, the silence gnawing at me. I tell myself it's fine, that she'll be back.

  Surely she wouldn't abandon me just after saving my life, right?

  Still, I drag myself to the cave mouth. My hands supporting me against the cave wall as I stare out.

  Outside, snow drifts lazily in the pale light. The sky is gray and close, clouds hanging low. I can't see tracks.

  I retreat inside before the cold wind bites too hard. My fingers are already going numb. I huddle near the wall, pulling my coat tight around me and staring at the faint scorch marks where the last fire burned out days ago.

  I try not to think about what it means that I'm alone again.

  My mind is a flurry of worry and concern, mostly for myself and how I will survive.

  And then.

  A sound.

  Not loud. Just soft crunches of snow.

  Zira's back.

  She pads into the cave, pale and red fur shimmering in the low light, something bundled gently between her teeth. She doesn't look at me, doesn't even slow. She walks past, drops her cargo a foot from my side, and retreats to her usual corner without a sound.

  I blink at the small bundle.

  Thin twigs. A bit of bark. Dried moss.

  Kindling.

  She brought me kindling.

  My throat tightens.

  I sit up straighter, dragging the materials toward the remnants of my fire. My hands tremble as I arrange the moss and twigs, shaping them into a small, careful nest. I fumble with the striker rod in my pack. It's nearly worn through, but it still sparks.

  The first few strikes are useless. My fingers slip. The spark dies.

  Zira watches from her corner, unmoving.

  The fifth strike lands. A tiny flicker. Then another. The moss hisses, curls,

  and begins to glow.

  I lean in and blow gently.

  Flame.

  It catches and the twigs ignite, bark blackening. The warmth creeps toward me like a memory.

  I sit back slowly, arms wrapped around myself, letting the heat reach my frozen skin. It's not much, but it's enough. My chest loosens just a little.

  I glance at her.

  She's still curled up, golden eyes half-lidded. Not watching me for now.

  Just resting.

  Stolen story; please report.

  I swallow, voice low. "Thank you."

  She doesn't move.

  But the twitching of her ears says she heard me.

  Day 5

  The fire's gone out again this morning.

  All that's left are faint lines of ash and the soft smell of smoke soaked into my coat.

  I lie still for a while, staring at the ceiling of the cave, listening to the wind outside and the sound of my own breathing. Zira is where she is always, sitting like a statue in the snowlight, watching me with quiet intensity.

  I shift slowly, testing my leg.

  It answers with a dull throb, not the sharp, breath-stealing pain from before. This is something more solid. Deep. Like a bruise beneath the bone.

  I need to try walking again.

  Or something like that.

  I sit up, my limbs stiff and reluctant. My fingers still ache from the cold, but I can move them, which is all I need. I dig through the remnants of my gear. Not much left. A belt, a torn scarf, some threadbare cloth. It'll have to do.

  I scan the cave, eyes sweeping every corner for what I need, anything sturdy enough to brace against my leg.

  Nothing.

  No branches, no firewood long enough, no spare gear worth salvaging. Just ash, broken twigs, and worn-out supplies.

  I sigh and lean back against the wall, frustration knotting in my chest.

  I glance at Zira.

  I hesitate. "Hey… can you help me with something?"

  She doesn't move, but her ears turn toward me.

  I clear my throat. "I need two straight sticks. About this long." I hold my hands apart to show her.

  "Sturdy. Not too thick, though."

  Still no response.

  Gesturing toward my injured leg, I elaborate. "For a splint. So I can heal better."

  "You don't have to," I add quickly. "Just figured if you were going out again, maybe..."

  She's already moving.

  No sound. No pause.

  She slips out of the cave like a gust of wind, her form vanishing into the trees beyond the mouth of the cave.I’m not sure if she understood what I meant. I’m not even sure if she’ll come back with anything at all.

  But I wait.

  Eventually, there's the soft crunch of snow, and she returns.

  In her jaws, two sturdy branches, one straight, one slightly curved, but close enough. She pads past me and drops them gently onto the stone at my side.

  I blink.

  "Thanks," I murmur, but she’s already turning away, settling back into her usual spot.

  I reach for the branches.

  I wrap the scarf tight around the top, wincing as the splints press into the swelling. Then, the belt is in the middle, and the cloth is at the ankle. It's not my best work, I must say, but it's not like I know where the nearest hospital is.

  I take a breath.

  This is going to hurt.

  I scoot to the nearest cave wall, use it for balance, and start to push myself upright, good leg bracing me.

  The moment I put weight on the splint, fire shoots through my thigh. I grit my teeth and breathe through it.

  "Come on," I whisper, barely audible. "Come on."

  I push again.

  This time, I managed to stand.

  It's not walking. Not yet. Just being upright.

  But it feels like a victory.

  I take one step, my weight balanced on the wall, and then another.

  Each movement is a challenge. My body screams at me to stop. The leg doesn't want to cooperate. But I keep going.

  I make it five steps before my leg gives out, and I collapse back to the floor.

  The landing knocks the breath from my lungs. I curl inward, hissing in pain, hands shaking from the shock.

  Across the cave, I hear claws on stone.

  Zira is standing.

  She doesn't come closer.

  She just watches.

  Her ears are angled slightly forward. Not aggressive. Not alarmed. Just alert.

  I don't speak.

  I don't ask for help.

  And she doesn't offer it.

  But she doesn't turn away, either.

  Eventually, when my breathing slows again, she moves not toward me but toward the far wall. I hear the soft rustle of her tail, then the faint sound of something being set down.

  I glance up.

  She's left something beside me.

  A few short, knotted roots. Dull green, their skin dusted with frost. I recognize them now. The same kind she's brought me before.

  Medicinal Leeks.

  She brought me more.

  I stare at the roots for a long moment, then reach out and pick one up carefully, turning it between my fingers.

  "Thank you... again," I murmur, barely above a whisper.

  She doesn't respond.

  I crush the root between my fingers, squeezing the pulp out before pressing it to the bruise. The sting is instant and sharp, but it fades quickly. Just like the last time I used it.

  When I finally glance up again, she's already back at her place near the mouth of the cave.

  Like nothing had happened.

  Day 6

  The fire is smaller today.

  I couldn't find much that would burn last night, there were just a few brittle twigs I'd scavenged the day before, and some dry moss was tucked beneath the cave wall. I ration it carefully, feeding it in slow handfuls, watching the flames flicker as they might vanish for good.

  The warmth only reaches a few inches past my knees, but it's enough to hold the worst of the cold at bay.

  Zira is already awake.

  She's stationed at her regular spot, still as stone, body toward me, ears forward. Her pale and red fur wisping around in the dim light.

  She still hasn't said a word.

  But she listens.

  I've come to recognize it, the way her ears tilt ever so slightly when I shift, the way her breathing quiets when I speak. She's not ignoring me.

  She just chooses not to answer. I don't know if it's because she can't… or won't.

  That thought sits with me for a while.

  Eventually, I talked.

  Not because I expect a response but because the six days in silence was making me anxious.

  "…I didn't come here with anyone," I start, voice dry. "No group. No expedition. Just me."

  Zira doesn't move.

  But I know she's listening.

  "I signed my name on a manifest, took what rations I could, and boarded a ship from the northern port."

  A pause.

  "I didn't tell anyone that I was leaving. Honestly, that was probably for the best. I did some things I'm not proud of, and I guess I just wanted a new start."

  I lean back against the wall and watch the smoke drift upward. It fades quickly against the rock ceiling.

  "I'm from the Unovan colonies. We're technically a part of Galar, but it's…different."

  I glance at her.

  Zira is still watching.

  "Back home, everything smells like salt and woodsmoke. The trees are tall and close together, and the fog rolls in off the coast in the mornings, curling low through the streets. The buildings are made of wood, and the cities are brick and mortar, patched together over generations. Lanterns burn all night, even when no one's awake to see them."

  My fingers flex unconsciously, reaching for things I don't have anymore.

  "I used to take uh...odd jobs. The kind people don't write down. Moving things. Passing messages. Collecting protection money."

  Zira turns her head slightly. Not much. Just enough to let me know she heard that.

  "I thought coming here might clear the slate. I figured if I went far enough, maybe I could act like it never happened."

  I pull my coat tighter, breath catching in my throat.

  "I thought maybe I'd come out here and find something different. Something I could be proud of,

  I don't know."

  I continue.

  "The locals didn't want me here," I say after a while. "Can't blame them.

  "I'm not from this land. I stick out."

  I look toward the fire.

  "At least they were polite about it. Cold but polite. One man handed me a blanket and said,

  'Stay to the coast.' Suffice it to say, as you can see, I didn't follow his advice."

  Zira shifts her weight slightly. Anchoring herself against the wind.

  I watch her for a moment.

  "You're the first thing on this whole island that didn't try to chase me off or let me freeze, or literally freeze me."

  A beat passes.

  Then I add, more quietly, "The only one who helped."

  Zira still doesn't look directly at me. Her ears don't flick. Her posture doesn't shift.

  I stare into the fire again. It's lower now. Flickering embers dancing along the edge of collapse.

  "Zira."

  She doesn't respond.

  The wind howls louder tonight. It seeps through the cave like a presence.

  It groans through the trees and whistles across the stone.

  I curl tighter into my coat. My leg aches. My body is stiff. My fingers are raw.

  But I speak again because I don't want the silence to be the last thing I hear today.

  "I didn't come here to die," I whisper. "But I might."

  The fire sputters.

  I watch Zira.

  "I don't know why you helped me," I say, my voice quiet. "Or why you're still helping me."

  She doesn't move. She was just lying down, her fur ghosting with the light from the last flickers of the fire.

  I lower my head slightly.

  "But I wouldn't be here still if it weren't for you."

  I close my eyes. Listening to the wind outside.

  But a new sound gives me pause.

  "...Zor Zoru."

  The sound is soft.

  It's so soft I almost miss it.

  A smile spread on my lips.