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Misha froze, a chunk of bark half pulled off a tree.

“I don’t blame you for being mad at me. I’m sorry.”

“Why did you leave then?” Misha’s voice was small. But she had asked, which was a big change since the last time they’d discussed it.

Iryana stared down at her gloved hands, clenching and unclenching.

“I—” The words caught in her throat. But she owed Misha answers. “I was not in a good place, and I was so confused and overwhelmed. I was so mad at the rest of the family—not you, never you—and hurt, and I just felt broken. No one had any idea what I was going through, and no one knew what to do with me. Everyone was so quiet when I walked into a room, talking easier when they forgot I was there. And I felt like all I could do was push people away. That no one wanted me there. So, I ran, afraid to lose everyone entirely.”

Misha turned to her, but Iryana didn’t look up. She still had things to say. “I realize now that I made things worse, that I have a lot to make up for. But I’m going to try my best to earn your forgiveness.”

“I don’t hate you,” Misha said softly, eyes shining. “It’s just… I don’t know.”

Iryana’s shoulders fell. “It doesn’t make the hurt go away.” She knew that all too well.

Misha hesitated, but then she shrugged slightly.

“Just…” Iryana sucked in a ragged breath. “Know I’m going to do everything I can.”

Her sister just nodded, turning back to peeling the bark off the tree. Iryana felt numb as she blindly went through the motions of searching and avoided Hadima’s eyes as she made her way back over to them. Iryana was a mess of grief and shame, unable to escape Misha’s pain as if it were a hundred leeches that covered her body. She’d tried, though.

Iryana paused with her small axe buried in the side of a mass of dark, burnt looking chaga fungus she was cutting off a birch tree. Her gaze trailed over the clearing, at her sisters quietly searching the trees.

What had this world done to them?

Sisters were meant to be close; they were supposed to know each other’s hearts. Yet they’d been driven apart by pain and hurt. How were they supposed to find their way back together? Was it possible for people to heal that much, or was this distance permanent?

She could barely remember the time when they were all happy together. It had been over a decade. Iryana had just been a girl, Misha a toddler, and Hadima just starting the first changes to becoming a woman. They were not the same people anymore; those years when they’d been close hardly made a difference.

Yet, Iryana wished she could be eight years old again, chasing Misha around the house and letting Hadima show her how to do the chores. Cuddling up together on cold winter nights above the still-warm oven after the cooking fire had gone down. Listening to their breathing as she drifted off to sleep.

A branch snapped in the woods beyond the clearing; Iryana’s mind struggled to clear.

“What is that?” Misha choked out, staring beyond Iryana’s shoulder.

Iryana immediately whirled around, eyes wide, stepping to the side to put herself between whatever Misha had seen and her sisters. She reached into her magic and yanked out her metal-forged spear before she had a chance to think it through, ignoring the pain ripping through her.

A creature watched them through the trees.

She couldn’t comprehend the proportions of it: the slim but impossibly long body. It was draped in darkness, blending into the mottled shadows. She thought she saw hints of fur along its spine, but the few glimmers of light seemed to reflect off red and black scales. It was so hard to tell.

It was not a dakya.

“Do you see any others?” she asked her sisters quietly, not tearing her eyes from the strange creature.

After a moment, Misha said, “No. I think it’s alone.”

Iryana didn’t want to fight something she knew nothing about. Was it fast? Strong? Would it bite her or try to rip her apart with claws? She didn’t know. They couldn’t risk running in case it was drawn to the chase like the dakii were.

The creature’s head tilted slowly, weaving around the trunk of the birch tree it clung to, and Iryana tensed.

“It looks like a fox,” Hadima whispered, voice tight.

“I’ve heard of foxes that climb trees,” Misha said nervously. “But that… doesn’t look like a fox?”

Iryana wasn’t sure. As the creature moved its head, there was something about the way the hair on its back moved that reminded her of the dakii. The shape of the muzzle. It was too small to be a dakya, but… was this how they started?

“Get everything packed and be ready to move,” she told them, still not looking away from the creature.