As promised, when the snowstorm finally subsided, the pale blue-and-pink fairy dragoness wrapped her white-tipped paws just under Gadalik’s forelimbs from behind him as they poised at the mouth of the tree hollow they had sheltered in, and the young green hybrid began to feel warmed from the contact with her soft fur. His striped blue eyes looked down from their perch at the once-familiar forest now disguised by a thick sheet of white and gulped, not having realized how far up they were. Guinevere spread her iridescent insect-like wings, the pink glow of which illuminated their yellow innermost markings, before she leapt out.

Gadalik felt his stomach lurch at the expectation of falling from such a height, only for the silent descent to be almost ethereal. He released a bated breath, then glanced over his shoulder, surprised to find that she appeared to be floating down steadily; there was a soft pink motion blur emanating from her back.

The half-seer dragon perceived time, slowing it enough for him to track each of her four wings which were beating rapidly in an ellipse. He admired them until the fairy dragoness placed him down in the snow, and the cold snapped him out of it. “Guinevere?” he called when she remained hovering above him.

The white tuft at the end of her long tail swayed absently while her golden antennae repositioned themselves. Then her light yellow eyes met his. “Follow me exactly,” she instructed.

Before Gadalik had a chance to ask what his rescuer meant, she began moving through the air. Instinct kicked in; the hybrid launched himself up with big hind paws to fly after her, but his small, dark green earth dragon wings were still as useless in the air as they'd always been.

Guinevere’s ears perked up at the sound of his heavy body plopping into the snow. She moved to free him as he struggled in the freezing, compact depths, but frustration lent him the strength to break loose and drag himself out of it. He glared at the white ground, although his anger was directed at himself–or rather, his inability to fly.

“Are you okay to continue?” she inquired, her tone neutral.

Gadalik tensed, feeling hot with embarrassment when her voice reminded him she'd witnessed his failure. “Y-Yeah,” he stammered, then awkwardly tested his weight with a single paw on the snow in front of him to see if it was shallow enough to stand in without sinking.

“There’s no need for that,” the dragoness stated. “I will direct you safely. There's no telling when there will be another blizzard, so we should hurry.”

“Oh…alright.” He watched the subtle changes in direction of her antennae as she guided him. To his surprise, the path she took was in fact free from further snow-related hazards, so Gadalik began to trust her. After what felt like forever, he heard a familiar water dragon complaining to herself about the weather nearby. Relief overwhelmed him, and he charged ahead carelessly. “Glacia!”

“Gadalik?!” his adoptive mother answered when they were within each other’s sights. She recoiled and dropped an arm-full of prey when he tackled her in an embrace that she instantly returned. “What are you doing out here on your own? I told you to wait for me in the den!”

“On my own?” he repeated, confused. The young green dragon scrambled off of her and turned back to introduce Guinevere, but the fairy dragoness had vanished without a trace.

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“Is everything okay?” Glacia asked, concerned by his reaction.

Gadalik wasn't sure. He remembered how it had felt when Guinevere used hypnosis to show him the meeting between his biological parents. He wondered briefly if this whole journey had been another scene created through that ability. No–she hadn't changed her wing colors at all since then, he concluded.

“Hey,” his mother tried again, this time tapping him with her webbed finger.

He jolted. “Oh! S-Sorry. Yeah, everything’s fine…I think.”

Her red eyes narrowed at him skeptically. “You ‘think’?”

“W-Well, there was this other dragon…” he admitted, then shook his head, not wanting to sound crazy. The hybrid gathered the prey into a manageable pile, trying to redirect her focus off of him.

It didn't work. “Another dragon?! Who was it? Did they hurt you?!” she fussed, checking him over for injuries.

“N-N-No! Guinevere saved me–she helped me find you…!”

“Guinevere?” Glacia seemed taken back by that name.

“Do you know her…?”

“Well…I know of her. She's one of the fairy dragons in this forest. They're pretty elusive, though. You won't really see them unless they sense your life fading…especially this time of year.” The water dragoness hesitated. “Wait. What exactly happened to you while I was out?!”

He shrank, ashamed of his near-death from being buried in the snow his mother had told him to stay out of. But he heaved a defeated sigh and explained everything, including the scene Guinevere had shown him through her hypnotism.

The light blue water dragoness processed the events while she picked up the pile of prey. “I had no idea who killed your parents… He sounds like the same dragon who attacked us in your visions last fall.” She reached for the last hare, but stopped, staring at it–or, perhaps, past it–with a somber expression.

“Glacia…?” he pressed, going closer to check if she was okay.

“...I'm sorry,” she murmured.

He tilted his head slightly. “For what…?”

“For not taking your visions seriously. If he really is still after us, then…”

“Guinevere said she'll warn us if she senses him,” he assured her.

Glacia visibly relaxed at that news. “Alright, big guy,” she changed the subject, “I'm sure you're freezing your tail off out here, so let's hurry back to the den and eat, okay?”

He smiled slightly. “Alright.”

Thankfully their return was uneventful and the weather remained calm for the duration of it. The young hybrid settled inside but stared through the entrance, hoping he'd catch a glimpse of Guinevere despite knowing she had probably gone back to her tree hollow. He couldn't help wondering if he'd meet the fairy dragoness again, under more pleasant circumstances; he had grown fond of her in the short time they'd spent together.

Gadalik happily raced through the new green grass, whipping his head around to beckon Glacia, who was amused but falling behind. Her red eyes widened when they focused on something up ahead, and Gadalik followed her gaze to see Guinevere landing gracefully before him, the sunlight sparkling through her translucent pink-and-yellow wings. Her small, smiling mouth moved as if in a greeting, but there was no sound.

“...ik? Gadalik?” Glacia’s worried voice faded in as the scene dissipated. Her adoptive son looked around in disbelief, then gave an excited bounce, breathing too quickly to get a coherent sentence out. She eyed him curiously. “What is it?”

“I had a vision again!” he exclaimed, and rambled on about the details. “What if my foresight isn't broken after all? What if I just need a connection to whoever I'm envisioning?”

“Maybe,” she replied enthusiastically. “Want to try foreseeing my future, then?”

His eyes lit up. “Can I?”

“Of course!”

The juvenile bounced again, then concentrated his thoughts on his adoptive mother.

Gadalik found himself on the top of a hill, overlooking the plains, the warm-colored trees of the forest, and their lake home. He felt a deep sadness, but was comforted by a familiar webbed hand on his shoulder; Glacia was beside him, giving her son an encouraging smile. The two turned east, and his sights settled on the base of the mountains. The water dragoness spoke, and although there was no sound, he gained some determination from her words. The two stepped forward together.