"It's not a cave, technically it's a root hollow—"
"Oh shut your face, Faral. Nobody asked you," Zhu cut him off tersely as she hopped farther inside.
The cave was quieter than Zhu expected.
Not silent but hushed. Outside, the forest cried and chirred as day settled into night, yet within the hollow it was as if a veil had been drawn, muting the world beyond. Inside the cave, the sound of the dripping water echoed softly in the space—plink… plink…steady and rhythmic, almost soothing. The pool shimmered faintly, disturbed only by widening ripples that vanished as quickly as they formed.
The soft blue glow of the worms clinging to the roots added to the calm, painting the walls in gentle light.
Zhu limped farther in, leaning heavily on her crutch. Her body ached in places she hadn't known could ache, and the moment she stopped moving, exhaustion crashed into her like a wall.
Then she felt it.
A pressure, not hostile, but aware.
Her skin prickled.
"…Faral?" she whispered.
Before the voice could answer, something shifted in the darkness to her left.
One point of indigo light blinked open.
Zhu froze.
Then another.
Her breath hitched as shapes unfolded from the shadows low to the ground, sleek, impossibly quiet. They were cub-sized, but their bodies were long and powerful, built like wolves and cats at once. Midnight-black fur drank in the cave's light, threaded with faint silver strands that shimmered as they moved.
"It is well, girl," Faral said calmly. "They are Nyxric cubs."
They watched her in utter stillness, glowing eyes unblinking, ears flicking as they tested every sound she made. One padded forward, paws soundless against stone, nose lifting as it tasted the air.
Zhu didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
She was acutely aware of what she must smell like: sweat, dirt… and blood.
The cub crept closer.
Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, Zhu chanted internally, gripping the crutch. Are they going to eat me?
Her inner voice was embarrassingly high-pitched.
"No, they will not," Faral replied. Somehow, she was certain the stinky voice was laughing at her. "They are merely curious."
The cub sniffed her ankle first, the injured one. Its ears flattened briefly, not in fear, but recognition. Then it circled her, nose brushing her muddied clothes, her hands black with soil.
Zhu swallowed hard.
"Easy…" she murmured, voice barely more than a breath. "I'm not… I'm not here to hurt you. Or be your dinner."
The cub paused.
Then, startling her, it bumped its head gently against her shin.
Zhu's heart stuttered.
Another cub padded forward, emboldened, sniffing her pocket insistently. It sneezed when it caught the sharp scent of ginseng, then sneezed again, offended but didn't retreat. Instead, it sat back on its haunches, tail flicking.
The first cub relaxed.
And just like that, the tension in the cave eased, softened by glowing eyes, quiet breath, and the fragile trust of something that had decided she belonged.
The other one relaxed.
The first cub, clearly the boldest, sat before her and looked up, indigo eyes bright and intent.
"You smell like him," the voice said quietly within her. "And like the forest."
Zhu exhaled shakily, knees nearly giving out from delayed fear.
"So… I'm not dinner?" she whispered.
A low, rumbling sound answered her, not a growl.
A purr.
The cub pressed closer, warmth seeping through her soaked clothes. The other followed, until Zhu found herself carefully lowering to the cave floor, surrounded by small, breathing bodies that radiated a gentle, living heat.
Her hands were shaking now, the fear finally catching up to her, but no one attacked. No teeth. No claws.
Accepted.
"They recognise you as under my protection," the voice added. "And as someone who has bled, laboured, and been judged by the forest… and endured."
Zhu let out a breath that was half laugh, half sob.
"Of course," she muttered weakly. "The murder-cats like me."
One cub yawned, all needle teeth and pink tongue, then curled against her side as if she were nothing more than a warm rock.
Zhu leaned back against the cave wall, exhaustion finally winning.
"…Fine," she murmured. "We can share the premium cave."
The glow-worm light pulsed softly overhead as the Nyxric cubs settled in around her. Zhu stared at them, fighting the overwhelming urge to run her fingers through their fur.
"Aww… they're beautiful," she murmured, instantly captivated. "What are they again?"
"Nyxari cubs."
"Oh, what—"
"—Nyxari cubs are panther–wolf hybrids," Faral interrupted calmly. "They have sleek, low-built bodies and oversized paws designed for silent movement. Their midnight-black fur is threaded with faint silver strands that shimmer like starlight, and their indigo eyes glow even in deep shadow."
When a full minute passed without being mauled, Zhu finally relaxed enough to give in to temptation. She gently placed a hand on one cub's head. When it didn't protest, she began stroking its fur, her touch slow and reverent.
Then reality struck. Babies usually have parents.
She glanced around in sudden panic, half-expecting an enraged mother to leap from the shadows and tear her apart.
"Don't be afraid," Faral said quietly. "Unfortunately, their mother is gone."
"Oh… how sad."
"Indeed. Without her, these two will die. They cannot fend for themselves yet. The den still carries her scent; that's the only reason predators have stayed away."
"We have to do something, Faral," Zhu said urgently, distress tightening her chest. "We can't just let them die. What can I do?"
"Feed them the jelly. If they accept you, they will eat from your hand."
The identical cubs rose unsteadily to their paws as Zhu pulled the cracked shell from her pocket. She removed the jelly and carefully offered it to one cub. It sniffed the unfamiliar scent, then gave it a tentative lick.
Zhu held her breath.
After a moment, the cub began eating in earnest, and the second joined in.
"Yes," she whispered under her breath.
"Good," Faral said. "They have fully accepted you."
As the midnight-furred cuties settled beside her, Zhu asked, "I thought they only ate meat?"
"They are very young," Faral replied. "Their mother's milk would have been enough, until now."
"Oh…" Zhu murmured thoughtfully as she continued to pet the little ones, her heart aching and warming all at once.
"There is no milk to sustain them. However," the voice continued, "Nyxric cubs are forest-adapted. Insects, grubs, soft-shelled beetles, these will be enough to keep them alive until they are strong enough to hunt small prey."
Zhu swallowed. Bugs. Of course, it had to be bugs.
"…How many?" she asked quietly.
"As many as you can gather. They require frequent feeding."
Her chest tightened. Her ankle throbbed. She was bleeding, exhausted, half-conscious on her feet, and now this.
"I can barely take care of myself," she whispered, panic creeping in at the edges. "I can't walk properly. I don't even know where I am. I don't—" Her voice cracked. "I don't know how to keep anything alive."
One of the cubs shifted, pressing closer to her leg. Its indigo eyes blinked up at her, trusting and warm. It smelled her Zhu's heart swelled at how cute they were, she laughed weakly, rubbing at her eyes with a dirty sleeve. "Oh, who am I kidding? I'm already hooked"
"Noted," the voice said, but there was something almost fond beneath it.
Zhu exhaled shakily. "Alright," she said, more to herself than anyone else. "Alright. Bugs it is."
She shifted on the wall, and she winced as her ankle protested. "But if one of them brings me a worm as a gift later, I'm blaming you."
"That is acceptable," the voice replied.
Her situation was still terrible. Still terrifying.
But leaving them to die?
That, somehow, felt worse.
"You have a day or two at most before you must leave the den."
"Yeah, yeah," Zhu muttered, barely listening. Exhaustion wrapped around her like a heavy blanket, and even her injured ankle seemed to ache less.
"Girl, use the paste now."
She heard him, but the fatigue had settled deep into her bones, making even the thought of moving feel impossible.
"Girl, don't fall asleep," Faral warned darkly. "I will rip your soul—"
"Fine," Zhu snapped weakly. She fished the paste from her pocket, her body protesting every movement as if screaming for rest. She rubbed it onto her ankle first, then over the cuts and bruises she could see. After a moment's hesitation, she brought the rest to her mouth.
That was when she made the mistake of chewing.
She gagged, nearly vomiting as an overwhelming bitterness flooded her senses.
"Eat it with the berries," Faral instructed.
Gritting her teeth, Zhu did as she was told. The mixture was still horribly bitter, and her stomach churned, but she forced herself to swallow.
Relief came almost instantly. She released a shaky breath as the pain ebbed away, warmth spreading through her limbs.
No longer able to resist the pull of sleep, her body finally gave in. She curled up against the warmth of the Nyxari cubs, her muscles trembling as exhaustion claimed her, and slipped into a deep, dreamless rest.