Poca felt a rush of excitement as she and Carter stepped out of the blacksmith’s shop. The late afternoon sun bathed the streets of Emberfall in a warm glow, casting long shadows across the cobblestone paths. Bruno was standing nearby, his deep voice booming with laughter as he spoke merrily with some passerby. Poca thought of approaching him, asking if he had seen Paola or Ayla, when a soft cough behind her caught her attention.

She turned around, and there, sitting on the same bench where she had last seen her, was Paola. But… it wasn’t the Paola she remembered. Poca blinked, her heart skipping a beat as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

Paola’s dark brown hair still fell over her shoulders in familiar waves, but now, atop her head, where her human ears had once been, were a new set of feline ears, twitching nervously. The old ears were gone, completely replaced by these new ones. A slender, furry tail swished behind her, mirroring the tension that seemed to radiate from her entire body. Poca’s eyes widened as she noticed the other changes—Paola’s eyes were no longer just deep brown; they had slitted pupils now, and within those brown depths, gold flakes flickered, catching the light and giving her gaze an almost otherworldly intensity.

Poca swallowed hard, the realization sinking in. This was no longer something Paola could hide. The changes were undeniable, irreversible. Paola had transformed, and the evidence was plain for anyone to see. The connection was clear—Paola was no longer just the girl who had fallen into Udanara; she was something else now, something ancient and powerful. Poca’s heart ached, knowing what this meant, and knowing the weight Paola must have felt because of it.

Paola’s posture, the way she sat with her shoulders slumped and her gaze lowered, made it clear that she was struggling, and Poca’s hesitation was not lost on her. The brief pause, the moment of shock, was all it took for the defeat in Paola’s eyes to deepen, as if she had expected this reaction, feared it even.

Poca’s heart clenched, and she immediately tried to make up for her hesitation, but she couldn’t stop the slight falter in her steps as she moved toward Paola. It was a small hesitation, barely noticeable to anyone else, but Poca knew Paola would have caught it. And if she did, she didn’t show it, didn’t fight the embrace that Poca offered her.

Without thinking, Poca pulled Paola into her arms, pressing her against her chest, holding her as tightly as she could. She could feel the intensity of Paola’s heartbeat, quick and frantic, as if it were trying to escape from her chest. Poca’s own heart ached with the weight of it, the helplessness of not knowing what to say or do to make this better.

"Paola," Poca whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "It’s going to be okay, mon amie. I promise you, it will be okay."

But even as she said the words, Poca could hear the hesitation in her own voice, a faint quiver that betrayed the uncertainty she felt. She tried to push it down, tried to bury the doubt, but it lingered, hanging in the air between them. And as much as she wanted to believe her own words, the sight of Paola, transformed and defeated, made it hard to convince herself.

Paola didn’t respond, didn’t pull away, but Poca could feel the resignation in the way she sagged against her. This wasn’t the brave, determined Paola she had come to know in the short time they had spent together. Paola had always been so fierce, so full of fire, willing to fight whatever challenges came her way. But now, she felt so small, so fragile in Poca’s arms, like a flame struggling to stay alight in a storm.

Poca held her tighter, as if she could somehow shield Paola from the world, from the weight of the transformation that had been forced upon her. She didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to fix this. The changes were more than just physical—they were a fundamental shift in who Paola was, and Poca wasn’t sure how to help her navigate that.

They needed Ayla. Poca knew that. Ayla had always been the strong one, the one who knew what to do in the face of uncertainty. But she didn’t say it, didn’t want to admit that she didn’t have the answers, didn’t know how to make this right. For now, all she could do was hold Paola, offer her what little comfort she could in the shade of the blacksmith’s storefront.

"It’s going to be okay," Poca repeated, more to herself than to Paola. "I will be ‘ere with you, no matter what."

But as the words left her lips, Poca knew that they were more of a hope than a certainty. She had only known Paola for a week, maybe a little more, but in that short time, she had seen Paola face down monsters, fight battles that seemed impossible to win, and come out on the other side with a strength that Poca admired deeply. Yet now, in this moment, Paola seemed so lost, so uncertain of who she was, and that scared Poca more than anything.

She pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at Paola’s face. The golden flecks in her eyes shimmered faintly, and Poca could see the fear, the doubt, the sense of defeat that lingered there. Poca’s heart broke for her, and she wished she could find the right words to make this better, to bring back the fire that had always burned so brightly in Paola’s eyes.

"Paola," Poca said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from Paola’s face. "We will get through zis. You are still you, mon amie. No matter what ‘as changed, you are still Paola."

Paola’s gaze flickered up to meet Poca’s, and for a moment, Poca thought she saw a spark of something—hope, maybe, or at least the faintest glimmer of the strength that had carried Paola through so much already. But it was fleeting, gone as quickly as it had come, leaving behind the same uncertainty, the same fear.

Poca didn’t know what else to say, didn’t know how to fix this. But she held onto Paola, refusing to let go, refusing to let her face this alone. Whatever the future held, whatever challenges lay ahead, Poca would be there, by Paola’s side, helping her navigate this new reality, this new version of herself.

As they stood there, the warm breeze rustling through the leaves of the trees overhead, Poca whispered one last time, "It will be okay, Paola. We will find a way."

And this time, she made sure there was no hesitation in her voice.

***

Paola nuzzled deeper into Poca’s chest, seeking solace in the warmth of her embrace. She had expected hesitation—she had felt it in the way Poca’s arms had stiffened for just a moment before she hugged her back. Paola couldn’t blame her. She had seen the way people had stared as she stepped out of the Grove of Echoes, their eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and unease. There had been whispers, murmurs that quickly turned to hushed silence as she walked past them. Everyone had been waiting to see what would happen when she emerged. They had expected to see her change, but not like this.

Paola had known there would be changes. The Grove had a way of revealing things about a person, things they didn’t even know about themselves. Some came out stronger, more determined, while others emerged broken, haunted by the battles they had fought within themselves. But Paola had never expected this—never expected to walk out of the Grove with new ears atop her head, with a tail that swished anxiously behind her, with eyes that now flickered with strange golden flecks. She felt like a stranger in her own body, and the confusion had only deepened with every step she took.

“I knew people would stare,” Paola murmured, her voice muffled against Poca’s chest. “I could feel their eyes on me the moment I stepped out. They wanted to see how I’d changed… but not like this. They wanted to see me stronger, more resolved. Instead, I’m more lost than ever.”

Poca’s hand gently stroked Paola’s hair, but the touch, while comforting, couldn’t dispel the hollow feeling that had settled deep within her. Paola’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more disorienting than the last. She felt as though she were standing on the edge of a vast, empty chasm, staring down into a void that threatened to swallow her whole.

“You are still ‘ere, Paola,” Poca whispered, her voice soft and filled with concern. “You are still you, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

But the words felt distant, almost unreachable, as if they were coming from another world entirely. Paola knew Poca was trying to comfort her, trying to be the steady presence she needed, but nothing seemed to penetrate the numbness that had taken hold of her. She felt hollow, like a shell of the person she had been, with pieces of herself scattered and lost somewhere she couldn’t find.

“We should go back to the room,” Paola said finally, her voice flat, devoid of emotion. “We can’t stay out here forever.”

Poca nodded, though Paola could sense the hesitation in the movement. She pulled back slightly, just enough to give Paola space to move away from her. Paola straightened up, her new ears twitching involuntarily as she did. She didn’t have to look around to know that people were still watching her—she could feel their eyes on her back, the weight of their curiosity pressing down on her like a heavy shroud.

Without another word, Paola began to walk, her steps slow and deliberate as she made her way through the town. Poca fell into step beside her, close enough to offer support but not so close as to crowd her. The streets of Emberfall were busy, the marketplace still lively with activity as vendors called out to potential customers and children darted through the crowds, their laughter mingling with the hum of conversation.

But to Paola, it all felt muted, distant, as if she were moving through a world that was no longer entirely real. The colors seemed duller, the sounds more muffled, and the warmth of the sun on her skin did nothing to chase away the coldness that had settled in her bones. She felt disconnected, adrift in a place that had once been familiar but now felt foreign and strange.

As they walked, Paola kept her eyes focused on the ground, not wanting to see the looks of the people they passed. She didn’t want to see the curiosity, the confusion, or the pity in their eyes. She didn’t want to be reminded of how different she had become, how far she had strayed from the person she used to be.

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” Paola said quietly, the words slipping out before she could stop them. “I thought I had figured it out, thought I knew what I was supposed to do, who I was supposed to be. But now… I feel like I’ve lost everything that made me, me.”

Poca’s hand brushed against hers, a small gesture of comfort, but it only made Paola feel more acutely the emptiness inside her. “You ‘ave been through a lot, Paola,” Poca said gently. “It is normal to feel lost, to feel like you ‘ave changed too much. But that doesn’t mean you ‘ave lost yourself. You are still ‘ere, still fighting.”

“But for what?” Paola asked, her voice cracking slightly. “What am I fighting for? I don’t even know anymore. Everything feels so far away, so out of reach. I’m just… hollow.”

Poca didn’t have an answer for that, and the silence that followed felt heavy, oppressive. As they continued walking, the Ember Forge Tavern came into view as they turned a corner. The building stood sturdy and welcoming, a beacon of warmth in the heart of Emberfall. The sign above the door was elegantly carved, depicting a glowing ember and a forge, with the name “Ember Forge Tavern” emblazoned in bold letters. The tavern was anything but unassuming—it was a place that drew people in, with its promise of comfort, camaraderie, and a temporary escape from the troubles of the world. Yet, to Paola, the thought of entering felt like another weight added to the burdens she was already carrying.

The tavern had been bustling with activity since the battle, its popularity soaring as people flocked to its doors seeking solace, food, and drink. Every room had been claimed, and Paola knew that finding a place to stay had been a stroke of luck. The Ember Forge was filled with travelers, adventurers, and townsfolk who had nowhere else to go, all of them trying to find some semblance of normalcy in the aftermath of chaos. The thought of stepping inside, of being surrounded by so many people with their own stories, their own emotions, felt utterly exhausting.

Poca opened the door for her, and Paola hesitated for just a moment before stepping inside. The warmth of the tavern washed over her like a wave, the rich scents of hearty food and ale filling the air. The sound of laughter, conversation, and the occasional clink of mugs created a lively, almost festive atmosphere. The large stone hearth on the far side of the room crackled with a roaring fire, casting a warm, golden glow across the space. Lanterns hung from the wooden beams, their light reflecting off the stone walls and the intricately carved wooden furnishings, creating a cozy, welcoming ambiance.

But for Paola, there was no comfort to be found here. The warmth and life that filled the tavern felt distant, disconnected from the hollow emptiness that had taken root inside her. She moved through the room like a ghost, barely noticing the friendly nods or curious glances from the other patrons. She was just going through the motions, existing but not truly living.

Poca stayed close by her side as they made their way up the narrow staircase to their room. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if the weight of her thoughts and emotions was pulling her down, making it harder to move forward. By the time they reached the door to their room, Paola felt like she was dragging herself along, every ounce of her energy spent just to keep going.

Poca unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping aside to let Paola enter first. The room was small but comfortable, with two simple beds, each covered in clean linens. A wooden chair sat beside a small table by the window, and a washbasin had been placed on a sturdy wooden stand. The room was illuminated by the soft glow of a lantern hanging from the ceiling, its light casting gentle shadows on the stone walls. The furnishings were simple but well-crafted, with the same intricate designs that reflected the blend of desert and coastal influences that characterized the entire town.

But to Paola, the room felt suffocating, the walls closing in around her as she stepped inside. The space that had been enough for her and Poca in the days following the battle now seemed unbearably small, as if there wasn’t enough air to breathe, enough room to contain the turmoil inside her.

Paola moved to the nearest bed and sat down, her body sinking into the mattress as if it were trying to pull her in. She stared at the floor, her mind a swirling mess of thoughts she couldn’t make sense of. Everything felt so distant, so out of reach, and she didn’t know how to bring herself back from it.

Poca sat down on the edge of the other bed, her hand resting on Paola’s shoulder, but even that touch felt distant, as if there were a barrier between them that Poca couldn’t break through. “Paola,” Poca said softly, her voice filled with concern, “I know zis is ‘ard. I know you feel lost. But you are not alone. I am ‘ere with you.”

Paola shook her head slowly, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I know you’re here, Poca. But it doesn’t change how I feel. I’m just… so tired. Tired of trying to figure out who I’m supposed to be, of trying to fight when I don’t even know what I’m fighting for anymore. I feel like a stranger in my own skin, like I’m living someone else’s life.”

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Poca’s hand tightened slightly on her shoulder, a silent reassurance, but Paola could sense the uncertainty in her touch. Poca was trying so hard to be there for her, to offer her comfort, but it was like trying to hold onto water—it just slipped through her fingers, leaving her with nothing but the cold, empty feeling that had settled deep within her.

“I wish I could tell you zat it will get better, Paola,” Poca said after a long pause. “But I don’t know what the future ‘olds. All I can say is zat you are stronger zan you think. You ‘ave faced so much already, and you ‘ave survived. You can survive zis too.”

Paola didn’t respond. She didn’t have the energy to argue, to push back against the words that felt so empty, so meaningless. She knew Poca was trying to help, trying to give her something to hold onto, but Paola didn’t know if she could hold onto anything anymore. Everything felt like it was slipping away, leaving her adrift in a sea of uncertainty and doubt.

The silence between them stretched on, heavy and oppressive, until Paola finally spoke, her voice barely audible. “I just want to feel like myself again, Poca. But I don’t even know who that is anymore.”

Poca’s hand moved to gently cup Paola’s cheek, her thumb brushing away a tear that Paola hadn’t even realized had fallen. “Mon amie, you are still you. Nothing can take zat away from you. Not even the changes you face. I may not understand what you are going through, but I will be 'ere with you, whatever you decide."

Paola closed her eyes and leaned into Poca's touch, feeling the gentle warmth of her hand cupping her cheek. For the first time since stepping out of the Grove, she felt a small measure of normalcy returning. The emptiness that had settled inside her began to retreat, replaced by a comforting sense of familiarity. Poca’s warmth, her soft, soothing presence, made Paola feel like she was starting to find her way back, even if just a little.

But the moment of peace was short-lived. The door to their room suddenly burst open, slamming against the wall with a loud thud that jolted both Paola and Poca from their quiet moment. Ayla stormed into the room, her face flushed and her eyes—one red, one blue—wide with a mixture of frustration and exasperation. In her arms, she carried Oso, the giant sandy-colored bear cub, who was writhing and squirming as if his very life depended on escaping her grip.

“Ayla!” Poca exclaimed, startled by the sudden entrance.

Ayla didn’t seem to notice the reaction. She was too preoccupied with trying to control the unruly cub. Oso, clearly unhappy with being carried, flailed in Ayla’s grip, his large paws swiping at the air as if he could somehow free himself. Ayla looked like she was holding onto a particularly unruly dog, one who had no intention of being carried anywhere.

“Oso, you little—!” Ayla huffed, struggling to keep her hold on the cub. She finally gave up and dropped him to the ground with all the grace of a sack of potatoes. Oso hit the floor with a loud thud, his body rolling awkwardly before coming to a stop. For a moment, he just lay there, as if stunned by the indignity of it all. Then, with a disgruntled huff, he rolled onto his paws and shook himself, as if trying to rid his fur of the entire experience.

Paola couldn’t help but crack a small smile at the sight. Ayla, flustered and overwhelmed, was a rare sight, and Oso’s antics were almost enough to distract her from everything else.

Ayla, however, was not amused. She looked at Paola, her mismatched eyes locking onto her for a long, intense moment. Paola tensed, waiting for the inevitable reaction to her transformation—the questions, the concern, the shock. But to her surprise, Ayla simply nodded, as if acknowledging the change without letting it affect her. Instead, she immediately launched into a rant, completely ignoring Paola’s new T’shal’ara features.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like trying to keep this little monster under control?” Ayla began, her voice a mixture of exasperation and disbelief. “I’ve been watching Oso while you were in the Grove, and I swear, Paola, he’s not just a bear cub—he’s a walking disaster!”

Paola blinked, momentarily thrown off by Ayla’s casual attitude. She glanced at Poca, who looked just as surprised, but the tension in the room had shifted, replaced by the sheer absurdity of Ayla’s rant.

Ayla continued, oblivious to their reactions. “First, he decided that the entire marketplace was his personal playground. He knocked over three fruit stands, caused a stampede of goats, and nearly trampled a merchant. I spent half the morning apologizing to every vendor in Emberfall, and the other half chasing him down before he could get into more trouble.”

Oso, as if sensing that he was the subject of the conversation, padded over to the small table by the window and began pawing at the washbasin. He managed to tip it over with a clatter, sending water splashing across the floor. Ayla shot him a glare, but the cub simply looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes, as if he hadn’t just caused yet another mess.

“And that’s not even the worst of it,” Ayla continued, throwing her hands up in the air. “He somehow got into the storage room at the tavern and ate half a barrel of flour. When I found him, he was covered in the stuff, sneezing like crazy, and leaving a trail of white paw prints everywhere he went.”

Paola couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image of Oso, covered in flour and sneezing. The sound of her laughter felt foreign to her ears, but it was a welcome relief from the heaviness that had been weighing her down.

Ayla sighed, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice as well. “And then, just when I thought I’d finally gotten him to calm down, he decided to take a nap in the middle of the street. Right in front of a caravan. I had to drag him out of the way before he got run over!”

Paola shook her head, still chuckling. “That sounds like quite the adventure.”

“You have no idea,” Ayla replied, her shoulders relaxing as she sat down next to Paola on the bed. Her soft blonde hair fell over her shoulder, brushing against her bare arm. She was still wearing her metal bikini, the Dragon Guard armor that she always wore into battle. The metal shoulder pads gleamed in the light of the lantern, a sharp contrast to the relaxed atmosphere of the room.

Paola carefully avoided the shoulder pads as she leaned into Ayla, seeking the comfort of her presence. Despite everything that had happened, despite the changes she had undergone, Ayla’s casual attitude, her unwavering support, felt like an anchor in the storm of confusion and uncertainty that had engulfed Paola.

Ayla wrapped an arm around Paola, pulling her close. There was no hesitation in her movements, no awkwardness or discomfort at the changes that had occurred. She simply held Paola as if nothing had changed, as if she were still the same person she had always been.

“Paola, you’ve been through a lot,” Ayla said gently, her voice low and soothing. “But you’re still you. No matter what’s changed on the outside, you’re still the same Paola I know and care about.”

Paola hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I know… It’s just… everything feels so different. I feel different.”

Ayla pressed a soft kiss to the top of Paola’s head. “That’s normal. Change is hard, especially when it’s something you didn’t ask for. But you don’t have to go through it alone. We’re here with you, every step of the way.”

Paola felt a warmth spread through her chest at Ayla’s words, a small flame of reassurance that flickered to life inside her. For the first time since leaving the Grove, she didn’t feel quite so lost, so hollow. She still had a long way to go, still had a lot to figure out, but with Ayla and Poca by her side, it didn’t seem so impossible.

Oso, meanwhile, had moved on to exploring the rest of the room, his curiosity apparently insatiable. He nosed around the wooden chair, then tried to climb onto one of the beds, his large paws slipping on the sheets as he struggled to find purchase.

Ayla watched him with a bemused expression, shaking her head. “He’s impossible, I swear. But I can’t help but love the little troublemaker.”

Paola smiled, her mood lifting further. “He’s lucky to have you looking out for him.”

Ayla grinned. “And you’re lucky I didn’t bring him into the Grove with you. Who knows what kind of chaos he would have caused in there?”

Paola shuddered at the thought. “I don’t think the Grove would have survived.”

Ayla laughed, the sound light and genuine, and Paola felt her heart lighten even more. It was moments like these, the simple, everyday moments, that made everything else feel manageable. Ayla’s presence, her strength, and her ability to find humor even in the midst of chaos, were exactly what Paola needed.

As the laughter faded, Ayla’s expression softened, and she looked at Paola with a mixture of affection and seriousness. “So… are we going to have the talk?”

Paola blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in tone. “The talk?”

Ayla’s lips curved into a wry smile as she glanced between Paola and Poca. “About the three of us. About what’s next.”

Poca, who had been quietly observing the interaction, flushed slightly, her blue skin tinged with a faint shade of purple. “I—I suppose zis is something we should discuss,” she said softly, though there was a hint of nervousness in her voice.

Paola looked between the two women, her heart skipping a beat. The idea of the three of them, of what they had shared, had always been there, lingering in the background, unspoken but understood. But now, with everything that had happened, with the changes she had undergone, it felt more important than ever to address it, to figure out where they stood.

Ayla squeezed Paola’s hand gently, her expression softening. “No rush, Paola. We’ll take it one step at a time. But I want you to know that whatever happens, whatever we decide, I’m here. We’re here.”

Poca nodded, her usual confidence returning as she met Paola’s gaze. “Oui, we are ‘ere for you, Paola. No matter what.”

Paola felt a swell of emotion rise in her chest, a mixture of gratitude, affection, and something deeper, something that made her heart ache in the best possible way. She wasn’t alone. She had Ayla and Poca, two people who cared about her,

who accepted her for who she was, no matter what had changed.

“Okay,” Paola said finally, her voice steady. “Let’s have the talk.”

As they settled into the room, the weight of what needed to be discussed hung in the air. Paola, Ayla, and Poca each took their places—Paola on one bed, Poca on the other, and Ayla leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, the picture of composed determination. Oso had finally tired himself out and was now dozing contentedly at the foot of Paola’s bed, his earlier chaos replaced by the soft, rhythmic sounds of his breathing.

Poca shifted slightly on her bed, her expression thoughtful but tinged with curiosity. “I ‘ave only known you both for a short time,” she began, her French accent softening her words, “but it is clear zat zere is something special between you two.”

Ayla’s gaze softened as she looked at Paola, her tone losing some of its businesslike edge. “Paola, you know how much you mean to me, right?”

Paola felt her cheeks warm under Ayla’s gaze. “I… I know, Ayla. You mean a lot to me too. But… I didn’t realize just how much.”

Ayla took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Paola’s. “You’ve become the most important person in my life, Paola. I need you to understand that. I don’t say things like that lightly.”

Paola blinked, taken aback. “Most important? Ayla, what about…?”

“Lady Marcelline?” Ayla finished, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “She’s still important, of course. But you… you’re different. You’ve become a priority in a way I didn’t expect.”

Paola stared at Ayla, her mind racing. Ayla was close to Lady Marcelline, the powerful and enigmatic ruler of the province. The idea that she now ranked close to someone as significant as Lady Marcelline in Ayla’s life was… shocking, to say the least. “I didn’t know…”

Ayla shrugged, her smile turning a bit wry. “Neither did I. But after everything we’ve been through, it’s become clear to me that you’re not just someone I care about—you’re someone I want to protect, to be with, no matter what happens.”

Paola felt a lump form in her throat. She had always known that Ayla cared about her, but this… this was more than she had ever expected. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

Ayla stepped forward, sitting down on the bed next to Paola and taking her hand. “You don’t have to say anything right now. Just know that I’m with you, Paola. Whatever happens, wherever this takes us, I’m not going anywhere.”

Poca, who had been listening intently, tilted her head slightly, her expression contemplative. “Zis is all new to me,” she admitted, her eyes shifting between Paola and Ayla. “I ‘ave only ever been with one person before, and… it did not work out well. I am curious about zis, but I do not want to cause problems between you.”

Paola looked over at Poca, surprised by the admission. “Poca, you’re not causing problems. I… I care about you too. This is just… complicated.”

Ayla nodded, her grip on Paola’s hand tightening slightly. “It is complicated. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. We just have to figure out what we want and how to make it work.”

Poca’s expression softened, a small, shy smile playing on her lips. “I want to be ‘onest with you both. I like you, Paola. And I like you too, Ayla, though I do not know you as well yet.”

Paola felt a wave of relief wash over her at Poca’s words. “I like you too, Poca. I… I didn’t expect any of this, but I don’t want to lose either of you.”

Ayla grinned, her businesslike demeanor slipping away as she leaned back on the bed, her arm still around Paola’s shoulders. “Then it sounds like we’re all on the same page.”

Poca chuckled softly, her gaze flicking between them. “Perhaps… but it is still new to me. I want to take it slow, to understand what zis means.”

Ayla nodded in agreement. “Slow is good. We don’t need to rush anything. We just need to be honest with each other about what we want.”

Paola squeezed Ayla’s hand, feeling a bit more grounded as the conversation progressed. “I agree. I don’t want to jump into anything without thinking it through.”

Poca nodded, her curiosity still evident in her expression. “I ‘ave never been in a relationship with more zan one person. Zis is… strange, but intriguing.”

Ayla laughed, the sound warm and light. “Trust me, it’s strange for me too. But I’ve learned that life doesn’t always go the way you expect. Sometimes you just have to roll with it.”

Paola couldn’t help but smile at Ayla’s words. “You’re right. I’ve only been here a little over a month, and everything has changed so much. I’m still trying to figure it all out.”

Poca reached out, placing her hand on Paola’s knee, her touch gentle and reassuring. “Zen we will figure it out together. No pressure, no rush.”

Ayla’s smile widened as she looked between Paola and Poca. “You know, I’ve always believed that things happen for a reason. Maybe we were all meant to find each other, to help each other through whatever comes next.”

Poca nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps. But I do not want to make any promises I cannot keep. I want to be careful, to make sure zis is what I truly want.”

Paola admired Poca’s honesty. It was clear that she was cautious, that she didn’t want to make the same mistakes she had made in the past. “We’ll take it one step at a time,” Paola assured her. “We don’t have to make any decisions right now. We can just… be.”

Ayla leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Paola’s cheek. “I like the sound of that. Just being, figuring it out as we go.”

Poca smiled, her eyes brightening as the tension in the room eased. “Zat sounds good to me.”

Oso, as if sensing the shift in the room’s atmosphere, suddenly decided it was time to cause more trouble. He bounded off the bed and began nosing around the small table by the window, his large paws clumsily knocking over the washbasin once again. Water splashed onto the floor, and Ayla groaned, though there was a hint of laughter in her voice.

“Seriously, Oso? Can you go five minutes without causing chaos?” Ayla scolded, though her tone was more amused than angry.

Paola couldn’t help but laugh, the sound surprising her with how natural it felt. “He’s just making sure we don’t take things too seriously.”

Poca giggled, watching Oso with fondness. “He is quite ze troublemaker, non?”

Ayla shook her head, moving to pick up the overturned basin. “He’s a handful, that’s for sure. But he’s also a reminder that we don’t have to have everything figured out all at once.”

Paola nodded, feeling a sense of peace settle over her. The future was uncertain, and there were still so many questions left unanswered. But for now, she had Ayla, she had Poca, and she had Oso—who, despite his penchant for causing trouble, had a way of lightening the mood. It was enough.

Ayla returned to Paola’s side, sitting down on the bed and leaning in close. “You know, Paola, I meant what I said earlier. You’re a priority for me now. Whatever happens, I’m with you.”

Paola felt her heart swell with emotion. “I never expected to be that important to you, Ayla. I just… I don’t want to mess this up.”

Ayla’s expression softened, and she brushed a strand of Paola’s hair behind her ear. “You’re not going to mess anything up. We’ll figure it out, one step at a time. And if we stumble along the way, we’ll pick each other up.”

Poca nodded in agreement, her voice gentle. “And I will be ‘ere to support you both. I am still learning, still trying to understand what zis all means, but I want to try.”

Paola felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. “Thank you, Poca. And thank you, Ayla. I don’t know where I’d be without you two.”

Ayla smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Probably running around naked somewhere, causing just as much chaos as Oso.”

Paola rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. “Okay, maybe you’re right. But still, I’m glad you’re here with me.”

Poca chuckled softly. “It seems we are all a bit of a mess, non? But zat is okay. We do not need to be perfect. We just need to be ‘onest.”

Ayla nodded, her expression turning serious once more. “Honesty is key. No matter what happens, we have to be open with each other. If something’s not working, we talk about it. If we’re unsure about something, we discuss it. That’s the only way this is going to work.”

Paola squeezed Ayla’s hand, feeling a renewed sense of determination. “Agreed. No more hiding, no more holding back. We face everything together.”

Poca smiled, a sense of resolve in her eyes. “Zen let us take zis journey together, wherever it may lead.”

Ayla’s wry smile returned as she looked between Paola and Poca. “And maybe we can keep Oso from destroying the room in the process.”

Paola laughed, the sound full of warmth and affection. “I wouldn’t count on it."

With a rumbling growl, Oso turned and bounded over to the bed, clambering onto Paola and settling himself in her lap, his large head resting on her knee. The trio looked down at the cub, his brown fur and sleepy, half-closed eyes filling them with a mixture of amusement and fondness. "You're a troublemaker, Oso, but you've got a good heart," Paola murmured, running her hand over his head and scratching him behind the ears.

Oso huffed in response, a low rumble of contentment echoing through the room as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.